Art of Observation
by Mrs.PercyJackson3
Summary: AU. Percy's career/crusade to save the ocean wasn't exactly going the way he planned, but that was no excuse for inviting the strange couple inside his apartment after they insisted he was their daughter's boyfriend, his sort-of-scary-totally-out-of-his-league neighbor. Especially since he knew he totally wasn't.
1. Chapter 1

~ * Art of Observation ~ *

* * *

"—and I want a picture with her dog, Snowball, he's a very important part of her life you see—"

"Uh-huh," Percy said, barely listening. His phone was jammed between his ear and shoulder, three grocery bags in each hand as he desperately tried to pull his apartment key from his pocket without putting any of the bags down. It wasn't going well and he ended up walking rather diagonally down the hall, not unlike the permanently drunk landlord of his old apartment building.

"—and a few in a cornfield, she has the perfect complexion for it, the colors will—"

Percy wrinkled his nose, faltering in his vain quest for the elusive keys. A cornfield? Where the hell was he going to find a cornfield in New York City? God, he hated senior pictures.

"I only do pictures within city limits," Percy firmly repeated, weary as his shoulder bashed into the hall when he careening unceremoniously to the side. "It's on the website."

As if he could afford a car, and as if the meager wages these senior picture gigs gave him could even cover an Uber to the middle of nowhere. Percy hummed noncommittally as the irate mother on the other end of the phone turned frosty—"don't you know my husband rubs elbow with the mayor, my family is of the utmost importance to this city, you should be grateful that I'm even considering your mediocre photography for my daughter"—thinking longingly of deepwater caves and the gentle curve of an angelfish's back. Percy sighed, his heart panging painfully at the image.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Hm? Oh yes ma'am," Percy said, not listening at all.

"Oh, this website is set up terribly, all these pictures of seaweed and fish, what ridiculousness—as if you could ever afford such expeditions."

Percy decided he hated this woman, embarrassment mingling with outrage as he continued to fumble for his keys, muttering under his breath as if the foul words might chase away the ache in his chest.

"Where are the criteria for senior pictures at? How do you spell that wretched name again?"

The bag containing his orange juice split. Percy cursed, barely catching the torn bag on his knee as he hiked it up in the nick of time. Percy swore some more, swaying dangerously as the blasted woman kept blathering in his ear. Percy opened his mouth, the words 'go jump in a lake' on the tip of his tongue, only to see a well-dressed couple watching him from down the hall, their eyes bright with a sickening pity.

Percy swallowed the insult back. He needed the money. His rent was due in four days and his account barely contained enough to cover it—and his landlord threatened to cut off his electricity next time he was late. He couldn't go slinking back to his mother to ask for help, even if she would happily and unjudgmentally give it. His mother was finally back on her feet after a hellish twenty odd years of raising him; Percy couldn't do that to her. And he would rather eat his shoes than ask his father for help. Turning away from the judgmental eyes of the couple down the hall, Percy cleared his throat and said:

"Percy Jackson, ma'am, P-E-R-C-Y—"

"I know how to spell the rest!"

Of course, she did.

"So it is the right website hm—oh I see it, tucked away under in the corner here, forcing me to play detective like a child. This is ridiculous. I'm going to call Sweetemotions Photography down the street and see what they quote me—they're _professionals_ you know and they don't make me hunt through their website for prices. If they offer me a better deal, I'll go with them."

Percy hummed, losing his balance and stumbling, the orange juice finally crashing to the floor as gravity took its unforgiving toll. It didn't burst open—Percy thanked whatever deity took pity on him—but rolled until it hit his apartment door. The mother on the other line waited impatiently for him to object, to grovel or plead or in some way acknowledge the power she held over him. But Percy was too tired to care and let the silence stretch on. He couldn't afford to charge less anyway so what did it matter?

"Well?" The woman finally demanded.

"Well ma'am you better ask them and get back with me," Percy said and let the phone fall from his ear.

He meant to dramatically disconnect the call but, temporarily forgetting his hands were tied up in the multitude of groceries in his arms, he could only watch with a wince as the phone collided with the floor, the screen flashing dark.

"Idiot," Percy cursed himself, flustered and feeling the gaze of the haughty couple down the hall as brightly as though under a spotlight. Worse, he realized he heard footsteps as the dreaded couple drew nearer, undoubtedly moved by pity to offer assistance.

Percy desperately leaned down, dropping half of his bags as he scrambled for the phone—screen wasn't broken, damn thing looked like it just turned itself off, thank God—and clawing at his pocket for his keys. He managed to free them from the confines of his jeans and was just straightening up to plunge them into the lock and hide himself away from this humiliation when—

The couple inserted themselves between Percy and his apartment.

"Percy? Percy Jackson?" The man asked, grinning broadly.

"Ah," Percy stalled, his brain helpfully flatlining. Did he know this guy?

"It is you, she didn't mention you lived in the same apartment building," he exclaimed, still grinning ridiculously like a weird announcer for some late night game show. He seized Percy's hand, shaking it firmly as he turned to his partner, who was smiling at Percy as though he had won a brand new car from her (presumably) husband's game show.

"Why you're more handsome than she told us!" The woman laughed.

"Huh?"

Percy stared at the pair, not comprehending but they paid him little mind, looking extraordinarily pleased with themselves. Then the guy started spewing crazy nonsense like "hi, I'm Frederick Chase, Annabeth's father. I'm so glad to finally meet my daughter's boyfriend." Which was insane because Percy didn't have a girlfriend and he was ninety percent certain that Annabeth was the name of his angry neighbor who found Percy's very existence an affront against nature.

"I'm sorry," Percy loudly interrupted as Frederick Chase bracingly clasped him on the shoulder and his wife (call me Helena dear) laughed. "I think—it's just—"

"Calm down some, Fredrick dear, we did just jump the poor boy," Helena said, eyes sparkling.

"Oh right," Frederick said, laughing slightly as he removed his hand from Percy's shoulder. "Sorry about that, it's just, well, I'm so happy Annabeth's finally found someone! She's been alone for so long you know, she's not a loner but she's not the greatest at making friends—not that she's not great! She's just so selective, which is good but you know. A father worries. And when she moved all the way out here, well, a father worries you know. But to hear she had a boyfriend! Oh, to hear her talk about you was just—"

"Hold up," Percy interrupted again. Did he hit his head this morning? Had all these senior pictures finally driven him insane? "There seems to be a mis—"

"Oh we're being rude," Frederick realized, his expression turning sheepish. "You're trying to put your groceries away and here we are, making you hold everything. Here, let us help you– "

He stooped down, sweeping up the orange juice and the two bags Percy put down to fish out his keys, talking all the while about 'how wonderful' and 'finally in person.'

"Let me get the door then," Helena said and suddenly the key was gone from Percy's fingers and he was being ushered into his own apartment.

"Oh," Helena breathed, walking into the tiny apartment.

Percy had the insane urge to apologize for the clutter before he remembered he didn't even know these people who had just invited themselves into his apartment.

"Listen I don't know—"

"Orange juice in the fridge then?" Fredrick asked, seemingly not hearing Percy as he squeezed his way around the diminutive kitchenette.

"Of course it goes in the fridge," Helena scolded, coming to her husband's side and taking a six-pack of shrimp flavored ramen noodles out of one of the bags and opening cupboards to find its proper place.

"What are you—?" Percy stood frozen in bewilderment, his brain sputtering like a broken down car. A bright yellow check engine light was flashing behind his eyes, unable to reconcile this invasion with any other experience in his entire life. He dropped the rest of his groceries, stepping angrily forward.

"Okay, guys, you had your laugh, but it's—"

"Is that a shark?" Helena gasped, her hand flying over her mouth as she noticed the photograph on his fridge.

"Um, yeah, but listen—"

Helena whirled, seemingly realizing for the first time that Percy's entire apartment (all, you know, like five feet of it) was covered in splendid deep sea candids.

"You're a photographer!" she exclaimed, seeing the camera bag perched proudly and safely in the middle of Percy's sad excuse for a table. "These are marvelous, are they all yours?"

It had been so long since anyone other than his own mother praised his work that Percy could only blink. Then said, "Ah, yeah, yeah they're all mine."

"Annabeth didn't tell us you were a photographer—oh my and a good one at that!"

Percy couldn't quell the grin that spread across his face. "Yeah, I'm an underwater photographer. The Pondicherry on the fridge actually won an award."

"An award-winning photographer!" Fredrick exclaimed, delight clear on his face as he excitedly examined the shark before him. "What kind of shark did you say this was?"

"A Pondicherry shark." Percy, grinning from ear to ear, stepped up next to the man to explain, reaching out to trace the lines of the photograph. "See the black tips on its pectoral, caudal and second dorsal fins? That's one of their identifying marks—but the big one is their teeth, their upper teeth actually, which are like little serrated steak knives around this area but smooth out back here." He ran his finger along the marks as he explained. "They also have that nice long, pointed snout and that unique curve around their nose. They're critically endangered and were almost considered extinct. I actually captured the first live picture of one in nearly forty years. It hadn't been seen alive since 1979."

His audience gasped in appropriate horror at the news and Percy felt the familiar swell of pride in his chest. He leaned forward, staring fondly at his most prized photograph. He captured the rare shark in the estuary of the Menik River along the coast of Sri Lanka. The beautiful creature curved in the dark water, sunlight barely penetrating through the deep blue to illuminate the gentle slope of the shark's back, its teeth on sparkling display. It really was the perfect photograph for the perfect moment. He had about a dozen copies of every magazine the photo ever ran in, and about three dozen of the TIMES magazine it graced the cover of.

"That's amazing," Helena gasped, hand over her heart as she crowded in on Percy's other side, leaning over to get a better look at the shark. "How many are left in the wild?"

"No one knows for sure, but not a lot. It's hard to measure a population when not even so much as a single member of the species has been seen in forty years."

"Until now," Fredrick said, looking at Percy with more pride than his own father ever had.

Percy didn't even try to beat back his pleased answering smile, going a little red around the ears when Fredrick shook him by the shoulder.

"Here, son, show us some of these other pictures, what's this over here?"

"Oh, that's the Chinese mitten crab, they're an invasive species in the Hudson River. See how it's—"

Percy wasn't sure when (or even if) he had made the conscious decision to go from the weird confused neighbor to entertaining, award-winning boyfriend but Fredrick and Helena were sitting on his couch (it was a tight fit) as he lounged across from them, laughing and joking as they ran through his portfolio. It was a surreal situation, this couple he had never met before sitting comfortably and happily in his miniscule New York apartment, looking at him as though he were the greatest thing since sliced bread. He'd never been the cool boyfriend before. His last girlfriend's father thought he was more cockroach than man, not that Rachel cared.

"I'm sorry I don't really have anything to offer you," Percy sheepishly apologized, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced ruefully at his kitchenette all of three feet away. "I mean, I have orange juice?"

"You're fine dear," Helena assured him, reaching out to pat his knee. "We dropped in rather suddenly. Annabeth doesn't even know we're coming." Percy chuckled nervously at the name. "And we accosted you rather quickly too. You'll have to forgive us for that."

"It's just Annabeth isn't much of a sharer you know?" Fredrick sighed as he put Percy's portfolio down with care. "She's always been a tough nut to crack and when she finally started opening up, well, we just got a little over excited. It's always the same whenever I call. How are you doing? Fine. How's the new apartment? Small. How's the job coming along? Well. It's enough to make you want to pull out your hair sometimes."

Fredrick ran a hand over his face. Helena picked up on her husband's stress like Percy's sonar picked up invertebrates; she reached out instinctively and took her husband's hand, rubbing her thumb in soothing circles over the back of it.

"We just want her to be happy," Helena said gently.

"Yes," Fredrick agreed, squeezing his wife's hand. "I was so happy when one day I asked her if she had met anyone and she said she'd meet you."

"Oh?" Percy asked, gingering feeling out uncharted territory. It was kind of like when he went cave diving, except a thousand times worse because he could handle sharks or grabby octopuses or even a punctuated air tank but this was on an entirely different level.

"She didn't say much," Fredrick admitted dryly, a fond smile curving up his face. "But the fact that she said anything at all gave us hope. So, of course, we had to come out and meet the man that actually broke past my Annabeth's defenses."

Percy wasn't sure how to respond to that so he settled on an awkward bobbing of his head.

"And we didn't mean to eavesdrop but when you said your name to whoever was on the phone, we just couldn't help ourselves. Couldn't have come at a better time too—since we're dropping in rather unexpectedly, Annabeth didn't know we were coming and she rightly locks her door. We very well might have been waiting out there for a while if you hadn't come along."

"I believe she normally gets out of work around this time," Helena said, checking her watch.

"Yes, I believe you're right," Fredrick agreed, checking his own. "Here, let me just pop out real quick and see—"

Percy wasn't sure how to respond to that so he settled on an awkward bobbing of his head all the while panic bubbled inside him. What the hell was he going to do when Annabeth got back? Why the hell did she tell her parents he was her boyfriend? Did she mean a different Percy Jackson? How many Percy Jacksons could she even know? There couldn't be that many in New York City, could there? Like, what were the odds she was dating somebody else named Percy Jackson and Percy was making a right ass of himself?

Percy couldn't help jumping slightly when Fredrick's voice cried: "Oh Annabeth! What wonderful timing!"

Well . . . this was going to be interesting.

"Dad?"

Percy wondered if anyone would notice if he jumped out the tiny apartment window. He could probably fit through it. Even as he contemplated the jump (a four-story drop was survivable right?), his feet automatically propelled him out of his seat and to the doorway behind Fredrick, Helena only half a step behind him.

Standing like a deer in the headlights in the middle of the hallway was Percy's silently judgmental neighbor. As beautiful as marble and half as warm, Annabeth Chase's gray eyes were wide, her keys in one hand, a portfolio in the other. Her eyes moved from her father to Percy and the look in her eyes wasn't unlike a marlin before a tiger shark.

"You won't believe who we just meet!" Fredrick continued, throwing an arm out to gesture at Percy, who he nearly whacked in the nose.

Percy had never really wondered too much about his elusive neighbor—aside from the observation during her first day that wow she was gorgeous and _so_ out of his league, and the dozen or so times she caught him doing something embarrassing (it might have been more like a hundred times)—but he knew the look of someone caught in a lie.

"Jackso—I mean, Percy," she said, slightly breathlessly. "Oh god, what, I mean—?"

"You weren't home," Percy blurted out, fumbling to throw her a lifeline. "So I ah, invited your parents over? Doing my . . . ah, boyfriendly duties?"

He wasn't sure if that helped any. Annabeth looked vaguely ill.

"Are you okay honey, you look pale?" Fredrick asked, stepping forward to lay a hand across her forehead.

"Fine," Annabeth said, shaking her head and stepping out of reach. She shook her head again and when her eyes resurfaced, they were collected and Annabeth looked more like the unmovable stone Percy was used to.

"Do you mind if I talk to my . . . _boyfriend_ alone for a moment?"

"Why? We just spent an hour with the guy, honey," Fredrick chuckled. "You can't prep him for anything, he's already been exposed."

He gave a laugh at that, reaching out to ruffle Annabeth's hair like a child, but Annabeth neatly stepped out from under the childish display of affection.

"Come on, honey," Helena soothed, slipping out from behind Percy. "You remember what it's like to be young and in love, let them have their moment."

Annabeth's lips pressed tightly together and if Percy didn't know better (which he really _didn't_ know better) he would say her mother's helpful suggestion actually angered her.

"Let's go inside Annabeth's apartment and let the two chat."

"Alright, alright," Fredrick allowed with a dramatic sigh, winking at Percy over his shoulder. "It was wonderful to corner you—I mean meet you! I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot more of each other this week!"

"Yeah, no problem! Have a nice visit!" Percy called happily, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other waving goodbye as Annabeth passed off her keys and the couple disappeared into the blonde's apartment.

"Nice folks," Percy said casually, turning to Annabeth.

"Come on," Annabeth snarled, grabbing him by the collar and forcefully shoving him into his apartment instead of answering.

"Whoa! Oh, c'mon," Percy whined as he was unceremoniously ushered into his own apartment for the second time that day.

Annabeth slammed the door shut behind them, letting go of Percy's shirt to press her back against the door, eyes closed. Percy wondered if she was having a panic attack. She was doing this weird breathing thing, in through her nose, holding it, and exhaling slowly.

"So . . ." Percy said because he couldn't stand the silence, even for a couple of seconds, and he didn't know what else to say. "Are we honey or dear people?"

" _What?"_

"You know," Percy flapped his hand around. "Is it Annabeth dear or Annabeth honey? Or Annabeth darling? Hm, that's kind of southern. Annabeth darling. Weird. But you know, kind of catchy. I could probably do it."

Annabeth stared at him.

"Annabeth baby?" he tried and her gray eyes flashed. As someone hoping to make a living around dangerous creatures, Percy knew when he'd made a mistake. "Or just Annabeth. Just Annabeth is good too, intimate, I guess, bit long and formal, but you know maybe that's us."

Annabeth did that weird breathing thing again. She opened her mouth as if to say something, closed it, opened it again. Finally, she said, "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" Percy repeated in confusion.

"Want, yes, what do you want?" Annabeth snapped.

Percy rocked back and forth on his heels, not understanding. "A permanent job?"

"From me, you idiot, what do you want from me?" Annabeth snarled, pushing herself off his door and getting right up in his face. "What do you want for not ratting me out?

"Oh," Percy said, still not understanding. "Um . . . to not get yelled at?"

Annabeth gave a wordless snarl, pushing past him to pace restlessly back and forth through the apartment.

"They weren't supposed to drop by," she groaned, raking a hand through her normally perfect blonde curls.

"Yeah, they said they wanted to surprise you."

"They weren't supposed to find out about _you._ "

"Yeah that's the part I'm still confused on," Percy admitted. "Do you have a boyfriend whose name is Percy Jackson too?"

She stopped her pacing long enough to stare at him incredulously. "No! No, I made it all up. I was—he just kept nagging and asking, do you have a boyfriend? Have you met someone? Have you tried one of those dating websites? A friend of a friend lives in the city and they have this son, why don't you go out for drinks with him? God, it never ended and I just, I just got sick of it and you were coming out of your apartment and I just blurted your name out and god this wasn't supposed to happen."

Annabeth sank onto his couch, her last words practically a despairing moan, her golden head bowed between her knees. Percy approached cautiously, edging around the couch to sit across from her like he had her parents a few moments before.

"There, there?" he offered stupidly.

Annabeth sighed, pulling her head up with what looked like a herculean effort. She propped her elbows on her knees, head resting in her palms. "Sorry. I'm just—ugh sorry. This wasn't supposed to happen."

"Yeah, I figured." Percy awkwardly stared at his neighbor. "No problem."

"Ugh, yes it _is_ a problem. You don't even know me and I went told my dad you were my boyfriend and he actually forced his way into your apartment."

"It was more a self-invitation," Percy offered as though that made it better. "I was bringing groceries in."

That started half a smile from her.

"How . . . why . . . ? I just don't understand, why did you even go along with it?"

"I didn't mean to," Percy admitted. "Your dad didn't let me get a word in edgewise at first but, I don't know, he just seemed so excited to meet me, I mean your boyfriend. Then they started looking at my pictures and they got me talking about that and I guess I just kind of forgot about it? I mean, not forgot _forgot_ about it but like I weirdly didn't want to let them down? Does that even make sense?"

"No," Annabeth confirmed but a smile lurked around the edge of her mouth.

"Yeah, I didn't think so." Percy gave a shrug, his face hot. "But I did. So." Somewhere in the distance, a siren grew closer, car horns blaring through the walls.

"So what now?" Percy asked.

"I don't know. Let me think."

Percy wasn't very good at 'letting people think.' He balled his hands into fists, willing his feet not to tap as Annabeth thought, turning her head to survey Percy's apartment.

"You're a photographer." It wasn't a question.

"Yep."

If he was expecting the same glowing reviews from her as her parents, he would've been disappointed; praise never came. Instead, they sat in terrible silence, Annabeth lost in thought and Percy trying desperately not to squirm.

Just when he thought he might explode, she said, "They will expect me back soon."

"Yeah it's been a while," Percy agreed, his voice coming out too loud to be considered normal and he winced.

Annabeth's eyebrows raised but she didn't comment. Instead, she said, "They will expect you to come to."

"Oh," Percy said, blinking. The long-term ramifications of not turning Annabeth's parents away hadn't occurred to him (hindsight was not one of his few strengths). "I could . . . be somewhere else?"

Annabeth snorted, straightening up to sit properly, folding her arms as she surveyed him. "Like where?"

"Work," Percy said, a half-formed idea taking shape. "An emergency."

Annabeth cast a glance at the man o war over Percy's shoulder, decidedly unimpressed. "An ocean emergency?"

Percy winced, reaching back to scratch at his neck (a nervous tick nobody had ever been able to cure him of). "Ah, no? I, ah, can't always afford jobs out at sea and I, ah, sometimes have to take on local photography jobs."

His face felt hotter than the Sahara Desert. Here he was, dressed in sweatpants and a shirt that hadn't been washed in probably a good two weeks, struggling to pay rent and land a decent gig, an underwater photographer doing senior pics, while the perfectly immaculate woman across from him, judging by the thick portfolio tucked under her leg and the important phone calls she was always on, was undoubtedly successful and thriving. Lord, how did her parents ever think she was dating _him?_

He gave an awkward cough, that dreaded ache back in his chest. He scratched at it absently. "Tell them one of my client's beloved dog is dying and they want last minute pictures with him."

Annabeth blinked. "Does that actually happen?"

"Yeah, more than you'd think," Percy couldn't help but laugh and to his immense surprise, Annabeth gave a huff of laughter too.

"Okay, but where will you go? I can't just jump back and announce you're gone, they'll want to see you off."

"My mother lives two floors below us," Percy explained, forking his thumb over his shoulder. "I'll go chill there for a few hours."

Annabeth nodded businesslike, standing up. Percy scrambled to follow her, bashing his knees in the process and looking quite the fool. Blessedly, Annabeth gave no comment.

"Okay, okay, that will work," she said, the gears in her head obviously turning as she nodded. "It should be safe to come back around seven, I'll plead exhaustion and have them in a hotel by then."

"Sounds good," Percy agreed, walking her to the door.

"Come by my apartment then," she instructed.

"What, why?"

"So we can talk about this," Annabeth huffed, rolling her eyes. "And what we're going to do."

"Oh, right," Percy said, opening the door and letting his not-girlfriend through.

"Seven o'clock, don't be late."

"Sure, sure, just one more thing?"

Annabeth raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously, is it honey or dear?"

* * *

 **A/n The Pondicherry is a critically endangered species of river shark. It had not been formally sighted in 40 years until some lucky boaters caught a snap of it back in 2014. But we can pretend like that didn't happen and Percy instead was the lucky guy with the camera. Not so fun fact, all species of river sharks are critically endangered and it's depressing because they're seriously cool animals, even if they're kinda ugly (ily babies don't be mad at me). Anyway, yes, a fake dating au because I haven't done one before. Blame my beta, rhig122, for egging me on (thank you!). This will be shorter, only about ten chapters or so.**

 **Kindly drop a note telling me what you thought and, as always, I hope you enjoyed ~ ***


	2. Chapter 2

~ * Art of Observation ~ *

* * *

Chapter Two

* * *

"Hmm, I love you."

"Are you talking about me or the cookies?" his mother teased as she pulled a fresh batch of her famous blue chocolate chip cookies from the oven.

"Both, but mostly you," Percy assured her, darting close to kiss her cheek, his hand sneaking behind to— "ouch!"

"Wait until they're cool," his mother scolded, kissing his cheek in turn and patting him loving on the shoulder, more or less because that was about all she could reach now that her not-so-little-boy had shot up like a weed and towered over her.

"Out with you, you can have some when they've cooled. You know I'll send most of them home with you."

"Most of them?" Percy repeated, letting himself be coaxed into the opposite side of the apartment where Paul, his stepfather, sat watching them in amusement.

"Hush you," his mother scolded affectionately, shoving him off onto his stepfather, who patted the seat next to him.

"So," Paul said as Sally shuffled back to the kitchenette and Percy squeezed his limbs into the small open square of sofa. "How's the expedition hunting coming along?"

It wasn't. After his internship ended two summers ago (the one that took him all the way around the world to the secluded waters of Sri Lanka where he caught his famed photograph) nobody seemed interested in him, one lucky photograph or not. _Got a college degree?_ They'd always ask and his 2.7 high school GPA and associates degree in the arts from the local college were never enough.

"Oh, you know," Percy said awkwardly and Paul blessedly dropped it, giving his knee a brief squeeze before changing the subject.

As promised, Percy was sent off with a worn Tupperware bowl filled to the brim with gooey cookies.

"Hang in there champ," Paul said bracingly, pulling Percy into a big bear hug. "We're so proud of you, you know."

"Yeah, yeah," Percy said, not sure what there was to be proud of.

Sally gently elbowed her husband out of the way, holding her arms out to Percy, who gladly let himself be enveloped in his mother's tight embrace. Nearly a full head taller than his mother, Percy buried his nose in her hair, which no longer smelled like the artificial sweetness of the candy store she worked at to push him through high school but rather ink and sweet vanilla. It didn't make him feel any less safe or loved; despite it all, she somehow seemed to smell the same.

"Love you," she whispered, kissing his cheek when he pulled away.

Visiting his mother was like recharging his batteries, he actually hummed the whole way up the stairs, the container of cookies warm in his hands. It was only a quarter to seven, he had plenty of time to nip into his apartment, change, attempt (and likely fail) to tame his hair, brush his teeth because he probably smelled like sugar—

Aaaand Annabeth Chase was leaning against his apartment door, waiting for him.

"You seemed to have . . . dropped something," was her greeting and Percy's eyes dropped in horror to his shirt, which was sporting an unimpressive and large chocolate stain.

He didn't even want to know what his face might look like, although he imagined it wasn't unlike an overgrown toddler.

"Um," his brain helpfully stalled out, staring at his very attractive, very put together and so out of his league neighbor. "Cookie?"

And he all but shoved the Tupperware into her face. She stared at him, her perfect face morphed thanks to his view via cheap plastic.

"No, thank you," she said, reaching out to lower the Tupperware and Percy only hoped his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Right well, ah—" dear lord somebody just strike him down now.

"Come on, we need to talk," Annabeth commanded, overruling his stalled brain. She pushed herself away from the door, head held tall and proud.

 _So out of my league,_ Percy thought as he obediently trailed after her. She held open the door to her apartment, holding the door open expectedly and Percy rushed to step through, only to freeze in the doorway as he took in his new surroundings. Logically, he knew that her apartment was the same as his—on the surface anyway. All the apartments on his floor were cookie cutter copies—kitchenette immediately to the left, conjoined with a living room, one small bathroom, one bedroom—but Annabeth's apartment felt entirely alien.

He could see the floor—and it was _white._ Was his carpet supposed to be white too? She hadn't repainted any of the rooms, sterile white walls that had clearly been washed (did people seriously do that, wash walls? He didn't know those people even existed). A posh, off-gray couch sat in the living area, a polished black end table opposite and a matching off-gray chair. The kitchenette was immaculate, and an honest to god fruit bowl sat next to an expensive looking . . . coffee machine? Expresso machine? Percy wasn't sure. He felt like he had stepped into a client's house, one of those snooty, rich mothers whose husbands made millions and never came home.

"Shoes."

"Huh?"

Percy whirled, a little wide-eyed. Annabeth stared at him expectantly. When he didn't respond in a reasonable span of time, she pointed to his feet.

"Your shoes, if you don't mind."

"Right, right," Percy said, his brain catching up.

He bent over, remembering only when he went to untie his, like, hundred-year-old converse that he still held the cookies. He hesitated, not sure if he could put them on the floor because it looked so clean and what if there was chocolate on the container? Flustered, he held it awkwardly in one hand and hobbled up and down, managing to one-handedly untie his shoe on the second or third try.

 _You absolute train wreck of a human being_ _,_ he heard a voice distinctly like his overbearing cousin Thalia scold him.

"Come on in and sit," Annabeth invited, blessedly not watching the disaster that was his life as she headed towards the couch.

Shoes properly taken care of, Percy followed her in, situating himself on the chair as she perched on the couch, the cookies awkwardly cradled in his lap.

"Would you like anything to drink?" she offered out of what was obviously mere politeness as she gestured to her own cup of tea, steam wafting from the brim of a delicate porcelain cup.

"Ah, no, thanks, I'm, ah, good, ah—"

"My father and Helena will be in town for two weeks," Annabeth said, saving him from further embarrassing himself by skipping right to the point. "Now, if you would be willing to put on a face for them for a few brief—"

"Sure."

Annabeth pulled herself up short, blinking at him.

"Sure?"

"Yeah, sure," Percy repeated with a shrug.

"I didn't," Annabeth's brow puckered. "I haven't even offered you anything yet."

"Offered?" Percy echoed in confusion, not sure what she meant. "You did offer me something to drink?"

"No I mean," she looked frustrated. "Money or compensation of your choice for helping me deal with this situation."

"Oh," Percy shifted awkwardly. "Well, it's not like it's a hardship or anything. I mean, it's not exactly terrible to pretend to be the boyfriend of someone as beautiful and talented as you." The word slipped out of his mouth without his permission. Her lips hitched up a fraction and, his face burning, he hastily added, "you know, and your parents aren't bad people, they were kind of nice to talk to."

"Helena's not my mother," Annabeth said, still looking rather pleased by the beautiful comment.

"Oh?" Percy asked and, because curiosity killed the cat and he never learned better, pressed, "step-mom?"

"Yes," Annabeth said, looking none too happy about it. She sat back in her seat, reaching out for her tea and taking a long drink. Percy, never the most patient person in the world, tried not to squirm or repeat the curiosity.

"My parents were never married. My father married Helena when I was a girl but . . ." she pursed her lips, a careful emotionless mask descending over her features. "We were never close."

"My parents were never married either," Percy volunteered, sensing this was a touchy topic and trying desperately to make it better. He instantly winced the second the words left his mouth—yeah way to go, undermine her experience with his own sob backstory way to go.

"Did he ever marry?" Annabeth asked, staring into her tea as if it held all the answers to the universe. (It might—Percy's ex-girlfriend believed in that sort of thing and she had an unnerving knack of predicting things before they happened passed. Thalia said that predicting they were going to break up wasn't a prediction but a breakup line, but Thalia never liked Rachel. Besides, Rachel once predicted Nico would meet his long-lost sister and that came true so.)

"Ah, well, he was kind of already married," Percy said, scratching the back of his head as his face burned. And because he could practically feel her judging his mom, jumped immediately to her defense. "My mom didn't know. She was pretty upset when she found out. So was my stepmom. Obviously."

Her face was still blank and Percy found himself panicking a little. It really shouldn't matter what she thought about his birth—this was the twenty-first century, after all, it wasn't like his lot in life was determined by his parent's marital status. So what if his dad was a serial adulterer, it had nothing to do with Percy's character. He had learned to tune other children out in elementary school after a few dozen brawls and explosions. His mom loved him, his mom was a good person. Poseidon loved him, Poseidon was sometimes a shitty person but he had his moments.

Amphitrite even loved him, so he wasn't lacking in validation on any front so the opinion of this random stranger he had literally just started talking to didn't matter. So why was he so desperate she understood? It wasn't like she was the first pretty girl he'd seen in a while (in his line of business, he saw plenty of beautiful women and while it did render him tongue-tied on occasion, he never had such a strong urge to impress someone in a while.) There was something about Annabeth, something different.

Might have to do with the fact that her dad and stepmom burst into his apartment and made him feel wanted and special, but that meant confronting his dismal self-esteem so he ignored it.

"Do you get along with your stepmom?"

"Amphitrite and I didn't get along at first, but I grew on her. She introduces me as her son now so, yeah we're pretty good."

Percy wasn't sure if that was the wrong or right thing to say because Annabeth gave out a frustrated sigh and leaned back in her chair.

"Helena and I are . . . well, it doesn't matter. She's my dad's wife and they're here for two weeks and I need a fake boyfriend."

"One fake boyfriend at your service," Percy said, jumping on the topic change with pleasure.

Annabeth snorted at that, taking another drink of her tea. "Alright," she said, leaning forward to set her coffee down and picking up a notebook and fountain pen that lay on the table between them. The switch from begrudging stepdaughter to efficient businesswoman was immediate, and her new no-nonsense attitude was kind of hot.

"So we need to iron out the details," Annabeth flipped opened up the notebook, turning to a page that was already three-quarters full of neat albeit it large scrawl. "I told my father I had a boyfriend back in April so we've been dating for three months."

"Should make it five," Percy suggested.

Annabeth's pen froze. "Why?"

"Well," Percy shrugged awkwardly as her steel-gray eyes lasered in on him. "It just seems like you're not the kind of person who jumps up and tells dad you have a boyfriend the second after you get one? I mean, I wouldn't even tell my mom for a few weeks until I was sure it was a thing and we're really close. Not that I think you and your dad aren't—maybe I'm wrong and that is the kind of person you are, I barely know you I know, and if I'm—"

"No, no you're right," Annabeth interrupted, which thank god. "I wouldn't have told him right away. Five months is . . . is actually perfect. Five months." She made a note on the page, scratching something out and carefully writing above it.

"Okay, so we've been dating for five months. We just need to get a story straight on how we met, because I _know_ that's a question Helena will ask and we should have stories that are similar enough but also different enough because we don't want it to sound rehearsed—"

"Okay, yeah, makes sense," Percy agreed.

"I thought about it while you were at your mother's," Annabeth plowed on, tapping the pen against her lips. "I'm the museum curator at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I'll tell them a few months back we hosted a temporary exhibit on local photography and you were one of the contacts I got in touch with and that's how we met."

"Sounds . . . reasonable," Percy hedged, wishing a museum was actually interested in getting in touch with him.

"I asked you out because I'm forward and you—" she pulled herself up short here, clearly afraid of insulting him when he so easily agreed to help her free of charge.

"And my masculinity is not threatened by forward women," Percy deadpanned. "Also I'm a bumbling mess. I probably dropped my entire portfolio over your floor when I saw how beautiful you were."

Annabeth gave a stifled laugh.

"Our first date was coffee."

"Coffee? Ugh really, isn't that so cliché?"

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "You mean normal? That's what normal people do."

"Boring, you're not dating normal, you're dating me," Percy objected, grinning.

"Okay then, where did we go?"

"The carnival."

"What are you five?"

"Disney on Ice."

"What am I, your niece?"

"Okay that was pretty bad," Percy agreed with a laugh and to his enormous satisfaction, Annabeth Chase laughed with him.

"Alright, how about dinner on the boardwalk uptown?" Annabeth suggested.

"That sounds perfect actually, I could have nerded out and shown you the tide pools."

He winked cheekily at her and she grinned back before leaning over to scribble that down.

"So Dad and Helena will be over tomorrow, but I can just tell them you're at work. You can probably relax until Friday when I'm sure we'll get an invite out to dinner," Annabeth went on, the gears in her head obviously turning as she plotted ahead.

"Yep, that's fine, I'm here when you need me," Percy said, spreading his arms out slightly and clapping them down on his knee.

"We'll need to exchange phone numbers so I can contact you—"

"'S also like normal to have your boyfriend's phone number."

"That too. So after that, I'll just text you the details as they appear and we can go from there." Her statement was punctuated with the sharp click of the pen as she capped it, looking satisfied.

"Wait a minute," Percy said confused as she started to pack up the notebook. "We can't be done, we just got started."

Annabeth frowned at him, her nose wrinkling. "What do you mean? We have a backstory, a first date, how we met, I have your number—"

"Okay so we have one story but like," Percy floundered with his hands, gesturing vaguely, "we don't actually _know_ each other. How are we supposed to pretend to have been dating for so long and not know a thing about each other?"

Annabeth chewed on her lip, eyes narrowing in what Percy knew was annoyance, but like he was pretty sure it was at herself for the entire situation and not him for opening his stupid (not so stupid?) mouth.

"Right," she said. "But what do you expect me to do about it? It's not like I can go back in time and change when we met."

"Yeah I know, but like we could . . . talk?"

"Talk?"

"Yeah, I mean, like right now just . . . talk and, ah, get to know each other. I mean we should at least have one real conversation with each other right?"

Annabeth thought it over, picking up her tea and draining it. "No, no that's . . . another really good idea. Let me make more tea, are you sure you don't want any?"

Percy thought about how awkward he was taking off his shoes and balancing the stupid box of cookies. No, he didn't think he could handle another object without embarrassing himself, especially if it was a liquid.

"No, I'm, ah, good thanks."

Annabeth nodded, standing and walking over to the counter. She fiddled with the maybe-espresso machine, pulling out a jar of loose leaf tea (and Percy only knew it was loose leaf tea because his aunt was obsessed with it) and busied herself making a new cup.

"So ah, big tea drinker than?" Percy asked because a) they were supposed to get to know each better and this seemed like an obvious question to ask and b) the silence literally killed him.

"It's the caffeine really," Annabeth admitted. "I tried coffee but it makes me too jittery." The machine began dispensing steaming water, Annabeth's hands on either side of it.

"I'm . . ." she paused, frowning at the machine. "I have ADHD. It's a lot better now as an adult but some things just—yeah. And coffee's one of the things that makes jittery but I still need to stay awake so, tea it is instead. It doesn't hit me as fast or something."

"You have ADHD?" Percy asked, surveying his put together neighbor in surprise. Her shoulders tensed and Percy quickly blathered out, "I mean, I have ADHD too so I was just—it's always kind of nice, I guess, to talk to someone else who has it too, because people are normally kind of assholes about it and it's crazy 'cause I thought people were jerks about it when I was kid 'cause like you're a kid but they're still jerks about it now as an adult and it's crazy because I think it's actually gotten worse and . . . ." He realized he was babbling and for a second he feverously wished he had asked for a cup of tea just so he could have an excuse to abruptly shut himself up.

Annabeth was staring at him. "Yeah," she agreed as the machine fell silent and the last drop of water fell. She reached out and grabbed the cup. "I thought . . . but you're right. People are just assholes."

Percy wasn't sure why the vulgarity sounded so funny coming from Annabeth but it made him crack a grin. She settled back down across from him, crossing her legs and pulling the notebook back out.

"So . . ." Percy asked, "What's your favorite color?"

Annabeth snorted, the question startling her so much that the tea jerked in her hands, precariously close to spilling over. "That's what you lead with? Of all the things you could ask to get to know me as a person and you ask what my favorite color is?"

Percy shrugged, "Colors tell a lot about people. Besides, what should I have lead with? Questions about your childhood?"

"I don't have a favorite color," Annabeth said quickly, wincing. She tapped the pen against the notebook, and Percy had a feeling the action was unconscious. "But I used to love silver as a girl."

Percy nodded, taking that information in. Silver, huh, that made sense. "Nice, I can see it." Annabeth's brow furrowed as if he were crazy but he plowed on before she could question the declaration. "Blue for me."

"Blue?" Annabeth's eyes trailed down to the blue chocolate chip cookies on his lap. "Now _that_ I can see."

"Knew you had a sense of humor," Percy laughed, grinning as he gave the box a little shake. "Don't knock 'em, my mom made them and she makes the best cookies in all of New York."

"So you're a Momma's boy."

"Through and through," Percy agreed, unrepentant. "If you met my mom you'd understand."

"Should I have met your mother?"

"I mean, would that be moving too fast for you?"

"She does live in our apartment building, she was probably at your apartment one day when I came over."

"And she embarrassed me by bringing out the baby pictures she has saved on her phone."

Annabeth laughed like this was the best thing she had heard all day. "Bet she dressed you in a sailor's outfit."

"Nope, but I was an adorable baby."

"And humble to boot. What embarrassing picture did I see?"

"The time I got into her art supplies and spilled blue paint all over myself. I looked like a smurf and the stuff didn't come out for like a month apparently."

Annabeth threw a hand up to her mouth to stifle a bark of laughter, her shoulders shaking. Percy grinning, leaning forward to lean his elbows on his knees as he watched. She seemed almost like a different person, laughing freely as she casually reclined with her tea and notebook. He couldn't deny it was an attractive sight.

"Okay, I told an embarrassing story, now it's your turn."

"Oh no, see you were stupid enough to freely give that one," Annabeth snickered, shaking her head. Her hair, normally pulled back in an impeccable bun or ponytail (today it was a bun), tumbled around, a few brave blonde tendrils making a bid for freedom and cascading around her face.

"Hey, no fair!"

"Life's not fair," Annabeth countered. "I grew up in Virginia."

"No kidding, not a city girl, huh?"

"You were born and raised in the city?

"How'd ya guess?"

"Well the accent for one," Annabeth drawled, clearly amused. "And the snobbish attitude."

"Fair enough, but come on, New York is the greatest city in the world."

"Yes, this cesspool is my idea of perfection."

"Okay, so like where in Virginia?"

Annabeth told him about the quaint little Virginia house she first called home, about how much she hated the classic small house with its low bearing ceilings, and how her mother's apartment in San Francisco wasn't much better.

"I'd go to mom's every summer," Annabeth explained, voice distant. "When I was around twelve, her business became focused back in San Francisco. She threatened to take full custody of me so Dad moved out there. I think Helena's always resented me for that."

Percy recalled how excited Helena had been earlier that night, how she had called Annabeth dear and honey and seemed genuinely invested in the whole 'meet the boyfriend' experience. He bit the side of his mouth to prevent himself from opening his fat gib and ticking his neighbor off. Privately, however, he had to wonder at it.

"Well I'm a New York brat through and through," Percy admitted. "My parents were never married – well to each other at least but ah, yeah. Dad lives on Long Island with his wife and their two children—my half siblings I guess. We get along really well. Ah, a half-brother, Triton, and a half-sister, Rhode. Rhode's like eleven years older than me, Triton like eight I think. Ah, my parents had shared custody but they lived so close to each other that it was never like a thing. I mean, when mom worked I was at my dad's and when dad was gone I was with mom. My mom remarried when I was like thirteen. His name's Paul. He's really awesome, we get along well."

"Must be nice," Annabeth muttered and, if he wasn't mistaken, that was a hint of bitter jealousy in those words.

"Um, yeah," Percy admitted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. "So ah, that's like it, I guess. Nothing very exciting."

He opened his mouth to ask how she ended up in New York, when Annabeth's phone went off. She took the time to set the tea down, laying her pen carefully to the side before picking up the phone.

"Sorry, work email," Annabeth apologized as her eyes scanned the message. "I have to answer this."

"Ah, right," Percy said, scrambling to his feet and almost spilling the gooey chocolate chip cookies all over her nice, clean floor. He recovered himself, hoping his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Here, add your number," Annabeth said, carelessly handing her phone over. Which was a terrible and dangerous decision really, Percy thought in panic as he prayed there was no chocolate on his fingers.

He added his name and number as Annabeth took another drip of tea, and the blonde took her phone back with the barest glance down at the newly added contact. She set the phone next to the pen, rising to walk him to the door, tea in hand.

"Alright, I'll text you more details as they come," Annabeth told him as they walked to the apartment door.

"Right, got it," Percy agreed, bobbing his head in agreement as he ducked down to collect his shoes.

Annabeth leaned against the wall, sipping her tea as she watched him put his shoes back on (without incident this time, thank god). It felt weirdly like the end of a date and when he turned around to face her, he got the sudden urge to brush one of the wayward strands of hair out of her face or something equally idiotic.

"So I'll be seeing you around then," Percy said, clutching the now lukewarm Tupperware to his chest.

"Yeah, I guess," Annabeth agreed and the corner of her mouth hitched up. "Thank you, Percy."

"Any time."

"You keep saying that."

"I keep meaning it," he said as he swept out of the apartment in what he hoped was a cool, dramatic way (it was probably bumbling and awkward but a guy could dream).

He told himself not to be a weirdo and look back as he left but the instructions got scrambled somewhere along the way from his brain to his body; his head turned and Annabeth Chase gave him an honest, full-blown smile that seared itself into his brain before she closed the door. Percy's feet took him into his apartment, his hands laid the cookies on the counter, limbs disrobing and pulling on faded pajamas. He sprawled out on the bed, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, barely able to believe this day was real. Annabeth Chase's smile replayed in his head like a broken record on repeat.

 _What on Earth have you gotten yourself into?_ Percy thought as he let darkness pull him under.

* * *

 **A/n Oh wow you guys have blown me away with your responses to this stories. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, just thank you. I hope this chapter was worth the wait. Shout out to my amazing beta, rhig122, for all her support.**

 **Drop me a note, let me know what you thought, and, as always, I hope you enjoyed ~ ***


	3. Chapter 3

~ * Art of Observation ~ *

* * *

Chapter Three

* * *

Percy woke up the next morning with a smile on his face and a whistle on his lips. It was ungodly early in the morning but he found he didn't mind so much. Turns out fake dating his neighbor was good for his mood—who knew? Maybe it was the excitement of it, Percy mused as he rummaged through his fridge for breakfast. He poured a bowl of store brand Lucky Charms knockoffs, chugging orange juice straight from the container. He ate in record time, pulling on his jeans and shoes as he swallowed the last few spoonfuls of breakfast before grabbing his photography gear and lighting out.

He half jogged to Central Park, wishing he could enjoy the chill of the near autumn air. The sun had only started to rise when he left the house and it was barely peeking out from behind the rich green of the trees by the time he finished setting up his gear. He had two clients today and one meeting with a potential client.

His seven o'clock was forty-five minutes late when Mrs. Tanaka and her twenty-three-year-old daughter Drew finally decided to grace him with their presence. Percy forced a smile, which he was sure was slightly manic and showed too many teeth, as they drew (ha) closer. The mother-daughter duo was dressed to the nines, both strutting over in sleek stilettos, designer handbags swinging at their sides, and Percy was willing to bet his meager life savings that their sparkling earrings were made from real diamonds. Mr. Tanaka was some big shot New York businessman who was throwing an expensive party at the end of the month in celebration of closing of some business deal he clinched and decided that the invites should be graced with pictures of his beautiful daughter or something stupid like that. Not that Percy could really complain—he was getting paid after all.

"Did you not get my last email confirming the time?" Percy asked through his excessively toothy smile.

The mother looked him up and down, her eyes slowly raking over his faded jeans and a half-worn through shirt.

"Yes," she replied shortly, turning to fuss with her daughter's hair and began sprouting out instructions for the shoot.

He was kneeling at an awkward thirty-five-degree angle, trying to capture Drew's 'good side' and somehow keep the midmorning glow of the sun align with the treetops when his phone buzzed. His heart leapt in his chest at the faint buzzing and he firmly told it to shove off, swallowing hard as his camera shuttered. It was probably just Leo asking to hang out that weekend or Triton asking where his spare key was (under his mother's welcome mat, obviously).

That didn't stop him from whipping the stupid thing out at breakneck speed twenty minutes later when Mrs. Tanaka took a break to blatantly add padding to her daughter's bra. His heart jumped right back up to his Adam's apple when the phone flashed _unrecognized number:_

 _Hey, it's Annabeth, this is my number._

Percy grinned widely, cradling his camera carefully between his elbow and body to free a hand to type back. He faltered, his fingers hovering over the keys. What should he say back? A simple one-word answer like cool? No, no, that was lame. _Nice to have your number._ That was awkward, yikes. _How are your parents?_ Was that trying too hard?

 _Buzzz._

 _Are you free tonight?_

Percy blinked, then blinked again. He bunched himself over so his shadow fell over the screen to make sure the sun wasn't blurring any of the words. It still read the same: _Are you free tonight?_

It's a fake date, Percy firmly reminded himself, but the rest of his body seemed to have forgotten this. His sweaty hands quickly typed back, _free as Willy,_ his heart pounding so loud he was sure the Tanakas would hear it. He only winced at his own nerdy weirdness after his thumb pressed down on the send key, but there was no going back.

 _Buzz._

 _My parents want to eat at Sant Ambroeus_

Right . . . fake meeting the parents of his fake girlfriend. Percy's heart sank right down around his colon somewhere and tucked itself away, dejected. _Come off it,_ he told himself, giving his shoulders a little shake, _you knew it was all fake._ It's not like Annabeth Chase _actually_ wants you to hang out with her. They weren't dating, they didn't even really know each other, he needed to calm the Styx down. He sent out a quick, _ok,_ and went back to work.

"Turn a little to the left so you're on an angle," Percy tried to direct as Drew gave her hair a toss, letting her admittedly beautiful hair cascade over dark shoulders.

Drew gazed down her nose at him, it's perfect little curve wrinkled like he was something gross she stepped on instead of a human being trying to capture her in a flattering light. Drew was admittedly a beautiful young woman, in an I-clearly-think-I'm-better-than-you-and-spent-a-thousand-dollars-on-my-purse-alone kind of way. But where she clearly had a doll-like perfection there was the rather unfortunate effect that, despite all her mother's efforts, she was . . . well . . .

"Stop puffing your chest out so much," Percy said.

"No, don't listen to him," Mrs. Tanaka interrupted, typing away furiously on her cell phone and not sparing a glance their way. "Show off your assets."

"Ma'am, I really think this isn't the most flattering angle," Percy tried to placate. "If we could just—"

"My daughter doesn't have a bad angle," Mrs. Tanaka frostily interjected.

"I didn't say bad, ma'am, it's just, standing on an angle like that while puffing out isn't the most . . ." Percy awkwardly trailed off, floundering as his cheeks darkened. It wasn't like he was staring but this was his job and he was supposed to notice things, and well, they would just write him an angrily email about it later if everything wasn't perfect now and . . .

"Isn't the most what, spit it out?" Mrs. Tanaka spat out, turning back to her phone to stab out a reply to someone, hitting the keys so hard Percy could hear the harsh _tap-tap-tap_ even from his distance.

"Will you just hurry up and take the shot?" Drew impatiently demanded, tossing her hair again, causing her diamond earrings to rattle and glitter like stars.

"Why don't we try—"

"I'm paying for this photoshoot and you will do as I say or be replaced," Mrs. Tanaka coldly informed him. "So if you don't want to be out of the job, put that camera back up and get to work."

"Yes, ma'am," Percy sighed in resignation, knowing that the proof gallery was going to be met with fury and blame all directed at him.

The shoot dragged on for another full hour before he made a break for his graduation shoot, glad to be rid of the Tanakas for the time. Of course, he had _another_ shoot with them next week because perfect little princess wanted pictures in the park and in the city but whatever. That was a problem for next week. The graduation shoot went much more smoothly. The father stayed on his phone the whole time, grunting every once and a while (which really didn't answer questions like 'are there any specify poses or backgrounds you want', 'did the mother specify any poses she wanted,' 'the kid wants a picture flipping off the world, are you okay with that?').

It wasn't until he was crawling back into his apartment around four that he gave Annabeth's text any more thought. But now, in the safety of his own apartment, he frowned down at her last text message, unease slithering into the back of his mind.

Sant Ambroeus.

He didn't know where that was. He actually hadn't even heard of it before, which probably meant that it was expensive. Percy was nearly broke. He couldn't even afford a full gallon of milk at the store last night, he had to buy a quart. He chewed on his bottom lip. Yes, he had a couple of shoots coming up but he had bills to pay and he'd been looking into night classes at the local college, there was a photography contest he wanted to enter but had an entrance fee, and if any of the expeditions he applied to had gotten back to him, he'd need immediate cash to get up and run.

Not that any of that mattered because his last few checks hadn't even found their way to his bank account yet.

He chewed nervously on the end of a pen, rocking back and forth on his heels. He couldn't afford to go out to dinner. _I'm the boyfriend,_ Percy realized in panic, _am I supposed to pay for Annabeth's dinner too?_

Oh, this was bad. Surely she wouldn't make him pay? She'd interject with something about that being so outdated and how she was her own person right? Come on, they weren't actually dating she wouldn't do that to him, that much he was confident in. But his own meal . . .

Maybe it won't be expensive, he tried to calm himself, sitting down on his bed and dragging out his ancient computer. The stupid thing was more of an outdated hunk of metal than an actual working digital databased, but whatever.

"Come on, come on," Percy pleaded, biting the cap off the pen and nervously teething at it. He would probably ruin it and then the pen would be capless leading to an ink disaster but it was a nervous habit even a thousand ink stains couldn't cure.

The computer's fans whirled manically, buzzing against his legs like an entire angry hive of hornets before the screen blinked to life.

"Thank you," he muttered as he typed in Sant Ambroeus.

He bit clean through the cap at the sight of the restaurant's homepage, not needing to go any farther for his answer. The modernist, classy design glittering mockingly at him and center screen stood the words 'book a table.' Yep, it was expensive.

Percy flopped down on the bed, starfishing out in despair, mindful of the laptop resting precariously on his knees. What was he going to do? He couldn't afford to eat a place that _required_ a reservation. Percy turned his head to the side, the scrap of his old bedsheet against his face reminding him that he hadn't shaved that morning and he probably needed a shower. Styx, was he a disaster.

 _I can't do it,_ he thought in despair. He stared at a water stain on the wall, mapping out its blobby, misshapen girth and wishing his life were as simple as the stupid little blemish. No worries, no bills, no fake girlfriends.

 _Man up,_ he told himself and forced himself to sit up. He spat the ruined ballpoint pen's cap into his hand and added it to the other fallen soldiers who laid decimated on his nightstand. _You made the mess, now clean it up._

 _Hey Annabeth,_ he typed, _so sorry but I actually don't think I can make it tonight._

There, that's it, Percy thought, holding his breath as he hit send. He held the cell phone at a distance from his face, like it was going to blow up or something. He waited with bated breath for a minute . . . two . . . five . . . .

"Well," he said out loud after ten minutes had passed without any explosive consequences, "is that it then?"

That's when he heard the knocking on the door.

"Oh no," he whispered in panic. What did he do? That had to be Annabeth, nobody else would _knock_ on his door. His mother had a key, Triton would be shouting, his sister could pick a lot, man even Leo would pick the lock before he knocked, what did he do? Could he pretend he wasn't home, had she seen him come in? She couldn't have right, it would be perfectly safe to—

"I know you're in there Jackson, open up," Annabeth called, which popped all of his hopes like a kid figuring out Santa wasn't real.

Nope, he was doomed.

"Um, hi, ah," was Percy's eloquent greeting when he opened the door, scratching the back of his head and he gave a full body wince at the look on Annabeth's face.

"What do you mean you can't make it?" she demanded, each word short and clipped, anger sizzling dangerously behind each syllable.

"It's just—I don't want to leave you hanging like that but ah, here's the thing, I ah—"

"I thought you were okay with this," Annabeth interrupted and Percy's heart constricted as betrayal lurked in her pretty gray eyes.

"I am okay with it!" Percy quickly reassured her, his hand falling away from the disaster that was his hair, accidentally banging it painfully on the door and recovering himself to splay his fingers around the handle, any attempt at coolness hopelessly lost.

"Then what's wrong with dinner?" Annabeth demanded.

"It's just, tonight—"

"It's only for two hours tops—"

"I get that, I just have a ton of photos to edit and—"

"Do you want me to pay you?"

"What, Styx, Annabeth no, I told you, you don't have to _pay_ me, it's just—"

"Are you looking for some other kind of compensation?"

"Compen—? _No!_ No, gods, no—"

"I don't get it then," Annabeth said and her tone drew him up short.

Her voice was perfectly calm, her face so composed it looked like marble, but it all felt . . . wrong, cold. Like Annabeth was shutting down, closing herself off, and after seeing her wit and warm personality the night before it was almost painful to see the cold business mask. He knew she didn't have a great relationship with her father or stepmother and maybe . . . maybe he had that more bearable for her. He forgot sometimes how lucky he was to have not two but four parents who loved him and whose presence didn't make him want to crawl in a hole and die. But Annabeth didn't have that. She out of her comfort zone, so much so that she had asked a complete stranger for help, and here he was _abandoning_ her and what must that do to a person's faith in humanity, god her eyes were so pretty—

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry, what time?" Percy sighed, his resolve crumbling into ashes.

"Seven o'clock," Annabeth breathed out and her entire body sort of . . . well almost deflated. Her shoulders dropped, tension seemingly leaking out of her body until nothing but a tired shell was left behind.

"Ah, are you okay?" Percy asked awkwardly, feeling more and more like a terrible person for causing her so much anxiety.

"They just . . . drain me, I guess," Annabeth sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Anyway, I'm . . . I'm sorry, I just . . . . It'll be easier if you're there and I don't have to answer a million questions about why you aren't there, or have them start to doubt my ability to keep anybody in my life. I just . . . I just don't want to do that. So. Thank you. Again."

"I mean, that is what I signed up for so I should stick to my guns," Percy said, trying to lighten the mood. "I can just get up early tomorrow and edit."

"Thank you," Annabeth said again, her voice just as tired sounding. "I'm serious though, I can pay—"

Percy waved her off. "You're not paying me, so knock that off. Hey, you look utterly exhausted, do you want some water or something? Do you need to sit down?" he asked in concern, eyeing the dark circles around her eyes.

Annabeth shook her head, blonde curls swaying hypnotically over her tired eyes. "I'm fine, thank you. I'm going to go change and . . . and then we can catch a cab or something."

"Oh," Percy said, trying to conceal his panic and not look like a half-broke loser. God, how far was this restaurant? How much would that cost?

"I'll meet you back here a half hour before," Annabeth said. "If . . . if that's still alright."

"It's alright," Percy repeated.

"You . . . " Annabeth hesitated, shifting on her feet. "Alright. Thank you."

"Anytime," Percy said with what he hoped was a convincing smile.

Annabeth actually gave him a smile at that. It was no more than a gentle tug on her lips, but it made her face look softer, warmer and Percy's stomach did a little flip at it, his own lips giving a returning smile. He stood there, leaning against the doorway as Annabeth walked back to her apartment. He had a stupid smile on his face, lopsided and pleased, as he watched her make her way down the hall. She unlocked her door and, as if sensing her gaze, turned to meet his gaze.

He felt his face flush, realizing he'd been caught staring like a total creep. _Fake girlfriend, off-limits,_ Percy reminded himself, scratching the back of his head and trying to rapidly retreat to the safety of his apartment. So, of course, he rammed his elbow against the door again, which emitted a resounding _crack_ that Annabeth was sure to hear, and a long string of curses that probably didn't reflect favorably on him before he was able to shut the door. He slumped against the door, heart pounding.

 _God you're a mess,_ he told himself, pressing a palm against his eyes.

He tried to concentrate on editing pictures from the Tanaka's photoshoot. Half of them were unflattering thanks to the unfortunate angle the Tanakas insisted on. His nervous energy combined with the certainty that the Tanakas were going to hate the pictures no matter how he edited them, had him bouncing off the walls. He switched over to the graduation shoot, then to a shot from earlier that week, back to the Tanakas, back to the graduation from today, until his head was spinning and the colors were blurring together.

He slammed the computer closed harder than he should have, jumping to his feet, unable to stand it any longer. He paced the apartment restlessly, fighting the urge to grab another pen to knaw on. It was a quarter to six. Okay, okay, first thing first: shave, shower, try to find something presentable to wear.

It took him all of ten minutes to complete the first two, his fifty cent razor cutting into the skin a little too deeply around his jawline despite a steady hand. He paced in front of his tiny closet as he toweled his hair, hoping nobody could smell how cheap his dollar store shampoo was. The real problem, however, was the tattered, outdated threads before him. What was appropriate to wear to San whatever? How fancy was it? Did he need a suit?

God, he didn't even own a suit.

"What have you gotten yourself into," Percy moaned to himself for what felt like the millionth time since agreeing to this . . . insane adventure.

"Alright, let's do this," Percy decided, grabbing the closest presentable clothing and pulling it on before he could talk himself out of it.

He dragged himself back into the bathroom, pausing in his hair drying attempt to clear a circle of condensation from the mirror. The man who gazed back almost looked like someone Annabeth Chase would take to meet the parents. The cut from the razor was only visible if he turned to the right, nicely tucked away in the corner. If he sat across from the parent's they probably wouldn't notice. His shirt was a plain blue button down (saved for 'special occasions' which in Percy's world normally meant his mother's book signings not meeting someone's parents in a fancy restaurant) and his black slacks could almost pass as something bought at a reputable outlet and not the discount rack at Target. His hair was a lost cause but who knows, maybe it looked stylishly chaotic. Was that a thing? He hoped it was a thing.

"Don't mess this up," he told the reflection sternly.

As if on cue, there was a knock on his door.

"Showtime," he muttered, tossing the towel onto the floor and grabbing his woefully light wallet as he braced himself for the night ahead.

"Hi," Percy breathed as he closed the door behind him, shoving his hands nervously in his pockets as he greeted the blonde woman.

Annabeth looked . . . well, more or less like Annabeth always looked. Her hair was still pulled back in a bun, dressed in professional gray attire. The only thing that was missing was her portfolio.

"You look beautiful," he said honestly, then winced because this wasn't a date and that was probably too forward and oh god he was making this weird—

Annabeth's lips twitched, "I look the same as I always do, but thanks. You clean up nice."

"Thanks," he said and had to ball his hands into fists to keep them in his pockets and not nervously scratch the back of his head and make his already unruly hair more unruly.

"So warn me some, what does your dad do for a living?" Percy babbled as held open the door to the apartment stairs for her, trying not to breathe too deeply as she walked by. She smelled like strawberries and that tea she drank the night before.

 _Stop being such a creep,_ he told himself, shaking his head vigorously as if to dispel the scent from the air and hastened down the steps behind his fake date.

"He's a professor at a local university," Annabeth explained. "He could have taught anywhere but with my stepbrothers being so young, he wanted to be home at reasonable hours and the bigger universities would have demanded more hours from him so . . . . He always says he'll go back but we'll see. He teaches physics and aerodynamics. He's obsessed with planes and really anything that flies."

"Cool, cool," Percy said, bobbing his head. "What about your stepmom?"

"She runs an at-home daycare," Annabeth said with a shrug of her shoulders. He could see the muscles in her back tensing up, her shoulders pulling together as they fell out of the shrug. "And makes like homemade jewelry or something. I don't know. She makes good money whatever it is."

"Cool, cool," he echoed, feeling useless and awkward.

They didn't say anything else. He held the door apartment complex door open for her and she waved down a cab as he worried on his thumb and tried not to look too nervous and broke. He let Annabeth crawl into the cab first before folding himself in, his limbs feeling abnormally long as he slammed his knee against the back of the front seat, his head brushing against the cab's roof.

Annabeth rattled off the address, waving a credit card at the cab driver.

Relief so potent it took his breath away washed over Percy. He sank back in the uncomfortable cab's seat, his eyes flickering closed as he tried to hide the flood of relief that coursed through his veins. He felt Annabeth lean back in the seat, her arm brushing against his. It sent a series of warm tingles down his spine and Percy forced his eyes back open, grimacing. Honestly, you'd think he'd never gone on a platonic date before (he had, many times. He was the fun platonic third wheel all his coupled friends didn't mind and the post-breakup call-at-three-am-to-bring-ice-cream-and-Disney-movies friend).

The moment the cab began moving, Annabeth began fiddling with a necklace around her neck, twisting the cord around her finger clockwise than counterclockwise then clockwise again but clearly had no conscious awareness of the fact; she faced away from him, gray eyes fixed on the oncoming traffic, clearly lost to her own head. Percy wasn't sure what to say to make her feel better—wasn't sure if there was _anything_ that could make her feel better. The silence was bad enough but the terribleness was magnified eleven-fold by the restricted confines of the cab. He desperately wanted to move, to fiddle, to move things around, but he was trapped and had to settle on bouncing his leg; he was acutely aware of every vibration it sent across the close quarters.

They couldn't get to the restaurant fast enough. When the cab finally came to a stop, Percy all but bolted out of the cab. He bounced on his heels, breathing in the open, albeit it pollution-filled, air and hung on the door as he waited for Annabeth to get out. She climbed out slowly, each movement careful and graceful as if she were walking on glass. Her eyes scanned the restaurant front Percy hadn't dared look at yet, squaring her shoulders as if preparing for war.

"Alright, let's do this," Annabeth said, striding forward.

"Um, okay should we ah—" Percy asked, hastening after her, and managing to throw an arm out in front of her before she pushed her way through the restaurant's doors. "Like should you hold my arm or my hand or something?"

Couples did that right? It seemed weird to head into the restaurant with a three-inch gap between them at least. Rachel hadn't been the most touchy-feely of girlfriends but even then he remembered touching her a lot, casually brushing against her as they walked, her hand on the small of his back, grabbing his arm as they turned corners.

Annabeth stared at him.

"Right," she agreed clinically, nodding her head. She stared at him and Percy awkwardly stared back, not sure what she wanted. Oh god, was he supposed to take her hand, put his arm around her shoulder, what did she—

Annabeth solved the dilemma a moment later with a deep sigh at his panicked immobility, hooking her arm through his.

"Come on then," she said and they were through the doors for real this time.

A dull murmuring reached them as they entered the restaurant, a pleasant buzz of conversation that was nowhere near as loud as the rambunctious hollering of the cheap casual restaurants Percy was used to frequenting (if he went at all, which he normally didn't.) Annabeth led the way, steering him through the crowd, bypassing the hostess with a short, "we're part of an already seated party."

Percy stumbled along after her, feeling more like he was being led than half of a happy couple. He prayed they didn't look too awkward as Annabeth maneuvered them over to a brightly lit corner in the back of the restaurant where her father and stepmother slowly took shape.

"Oh, there you are!" Fredrick called in delight, half rising from his seat to pull Annabeth into an uncomfortable looking one-armed hug. "You're late! I completely expected you to be here before us—"

"Ah, that was probably me," Percy said awkwardly, fighting the urge to fidget as Annabeth's shoulders impossibly tensed up even tighter.

He gave what he hoped was an apologetic smile, watching uncomfortably as Helena hid a smile behind her menu and Fredrick laughed warmly. To Percy's alarm, when he let go of his daughter, he reached out to clap Percy on the shoulder.

"Good to see you again," Fredrick said and Percy fought the urge to bolt at the fondness in the man's eyes.

"And you too," he managed to choke out before Annabeth tugged at his cuff, an obvious nonverbal instruction to sit.

He sat and, naturally, bashed his knees against the table, causing Helena's water to slosh over the rim of her cup. Percy winced so hard he was surprised the table didn't jerk again.

"Ah, sorry, I'm—"

"It's just water, dear, don't worry about it," Helena laughed it off, waving her hand as she dabbed at the water with one of those cloth napkins.

Percy balled his hands into fists under the table, glancing at Annabeth out of the corner of his eye. She had picked up a menu and was glancing over it, not noticing his gaze. The air felt stifling and a million times more awkward than the first time he met the Chases. _It's Annabeth,_ he thought in despair. As if sensing his building panic, Annabeth looked at him from over the top of her menu. Under the table, he felt a gentle tap as she reached out and nudged him with her foot, widening her eyes in a meaningful manner. He wasn't entirely sure what she was trying to tell him but _don't freak out_ was probably in there. The gentle touch did the trick though and he swallowed his embarrassed panic down and looked down at the menu as well.

"I ordered us all waters, if you want something different, I can wave down the wait—"

"Water's fine," Percy quickly interjected, not needing to look at the beverage prices to know he couldn't afford them.

"We're good, Dad, thanks," Annabeth said, nodding in agreement. "How's the hotel?"

Her father launched into some anecdote about a check-in mishap that Percy didn't hear a word of because, under the table, he felt another tap. He glanced Annabeth's way but she wasn't looking at him. He felt the tap again, then realized the tapping was a consequence of Annabeth's bouncing leg and not an intentional attention-grabbing device.

Feeling sympathetic, Percy moved his chair a millimeter closer to hers, so their elbows touched. The touch seemed to startle her and her eyes flickered up. He offered her a half smile and, to his relief, received an answering one.

"So," Fredrick called, demanding their attention again. "You don't really want to hear about our boring hotel, tell me about all that's happened since I saw you last."

His eyes meaningfully landed on Percy as a waiter swept up to drop off two more glasses of water. Annabeth pretended to misunderstand his meaning as she unwrapped her straw, stabbing it into the water with more force than necessary.

"The museum's doing great, we have three new exhibits," Annabeth said as she flicked through the menu.

Fredrick and Helena shared a glance, the former looking exasperated and the later sympathetic. Helena reached out and took her husband's hand, giving it a squeeze. Percy adverted his eyes and tried to scan the menu but the writing was tiny and cursive. He squinted hard, holding his head to the side as if it would magically cure his dyslexia. It didn't work and he was hyper-aware of the small patch of skin that was pressed against Annabeth. He blinked hard, then again.

"I think what your father meant—"

"Who's watching Matthew and Bobby?" Annabeth interrupted and Percy tried to hide a full body flinch behind his menu.

Oh god, she was terrible at this. He took a long sip of water to have something to do with his hands so he wouldn't start tearing apart his straw wrapper in agitation. His elbow was still rubbing against Annabeth's. He swallowed hard and tried to focus on the menu again. He had given up trying to decipher the words, resolving instead to pick whatever the cheapest item was but even the prices were small and written on a slant, because of course they were.

"Ah, your Aunt Natalie—"

"Are they doing well in school?"

Annabeth kept up the rapid-fire questions, deflecting all of her father's attempts to ask questions of his own. Fredrick shifted in his seat, his grip on his wife's hands tightening at every defection. Helena's thumb circled soothingly over the back of his hand, but Percy could sense an explosion a mile away. He bit his tongue to avoid saying something stupid like 'hey Annabeth maybe let the man talk' and tried to focus on the menu. He eyed the straw wrapper on the table, hand itching at his side. He took another sip of water, his mind desperately casting around for a distraction that didn't involve draining his water before the waiter even took his order. Speaking of the devil, Percy froze with the water halfway to the table as a man dressed smartly in a sharp red uniform slid up to the table with a smile and felt his stomach drop.

"Are we ready to order?"

"We are if you guys . . ." Helena said with a forced brightness, smiling around at them.

Percy stared wide-eyed at her and, without thinking, shot a panicked look at Annabeth.

"Need another minute," Annabeth told the waiter, her voice breaking no argument.

"Not a problem," the waiter said and gracefully ducked his way out.

"I'm sorry, I forgot," Annabeth said in a low voice, leaning closer so he could hear her. Her hair tickled his cheek, her entire left side pressed against his. "I always looked up menus beforehand so I can make the print larger or have my phone read it to me."

She slipped her phone out of her pocket and lay it on the table between them, tactfully obscuring it with strategic placement of her menu. The Sant Ambroeus website was pulled up on her phone, opened to a menu page that had been magnified.

"What do you like?" she asked, her mouth barely moving as her finger slowly dragged down the phone, slowly panning over the now readable menu.

Percy wiped sweaty hands against his pants and tried not to choke on air at the prices that flickered by. He licked his lips, fingers digging into his leg.

"Ah, can you go back up to appetizers?"

"Everything okay?" Fredrick asked and Percy supposed they looked rather rude, huddled close together with their heads bent behind Annabeth's propped up menu.

"Fine," Annabeth said shortly, scrolling back up to the appetizers. The prices there were marginally better but still pricier than what he'd normally be willing to shell out for an entrée much less an appetizer.

"Not hungry?" she asked Percy, her voice returning to a low murmur against his cheek, which was very distracting and not what he needed right now.

"Ah, yeah," he lied and thanked every deity he could think of when his stomach didn't growl and betray him. "One of, ah, one of my clients fed me so."

Annabeth nodded, buying his lie, and he was eternally grateful the world knew so little of the photography industry because the idea of a client actually feeding him was laughable in its absurdity. Hell, he never even got fed to do weddings when there was actual food present.

"What even is this?" he asked in mild panic as he regarded the menu. The letters were actually readable now but . . . something was still not right.

"The names are in Italian, the description are in English," Annabeth soothed. "I looked some of them up, here."

And her thumb moved to the side of the phone where a bright yellow note popped up.

"Why would they do that to me?" Percy bemoaned and Annabeth gave a huff of laughter.

He looked down at her, his chin dragging across her hair as he turned, and saw a hint of a smile. She didn't look all wound up and miserable now at least. Somehow, that lessened his anxiety over the entire can't-read-the-menu-or-afford-the-meal thing.

"Is there—?" Fredrick started to ask.

"It's nothing, Dad," Annabeth cut him off sharply, the smile disappearing.

Percy squirmed uncomfortably as Fredrick's smile dropped, misery settling into his worn face and gah, here Annabeth was trying to protect Percy and he was making everything worse. _Forget it,_ he said and threw caution to the wind.

"It's my dyslexia," he admitted, "I can't read the menu."

"Oh, you're dyslexic too?" Fredrick asked and weirdly enough his face lit up at that.

Too? Oh, Percy realized. ADHD and dyslexia were not uncommon in the same individual, it wasn't all that strange that Annabeth had the same concoction of disorders as him. Of course, he was the boyfriend so he was supposed to know that.

"Yeah," Percy said, drawing the word out a little. "Sorry. Annabeth always remembers to look at the menu before we go out and I always think I'll be fine."

"It's only because it's in Italian," Annabeth dismissed.

"Sure, and what about last time?" Percy teased, proud of his ad-libbing.

Annabeth didn't know what to do with the bone he'd thrown her. She gave a sort of amused smile but dropped the banter to point at something on her phone.

"I'm having this," she told him and he skipped right over the name (he couldn't read English properly never mind Italian) to scan what it contained. Some noodles with a bunch of fancy names he'd never heard before.

"Great," he said, resolving not to look at the price as he plopped his finger down at something at random on the appetizer menu. "I'll just have that."

"Caprese Flatbread?"

"Are you sure that's how it's pronounced?"

Annabeth gave another huff of laughter and Percy grinned cheekily at her. He was about to say something stupid just to try and get a real laugh out her when the waiter returned. Percy slaughtered the pronunciation, an embarrassment that was worth it for the chuckle it drew from the blonde beside him and tried not think of how little was in his bank account.

"So how do you like New York?" Percy asked because that seemed like a normal thing to ask and Annabeth was clearly not okay on the whole initiating conversations front.

"We haven't gotten to see much of it yet," Fredrick admitted. "After we ambushed the pair of you yesterday we went to the hotel and crashed. We looked around a little while you two were at work but it's just so overwhelming, you never know were to start and the tour we were—"

"Oh no, you can't go on one of those," Percy objected immediately in horror, unable to stop his nose from wrinkling in disgust. "They never take you to any real places, just a bunch of tourist-y traps. Cost you an arm and a leg and you'll never see nothing."

"Percy was born in the city," Annabeth said dryly.

"Shut up," Percy said good-naturedly. "Leave my city alone. She's got her good spots."

"And her cesspools."

"Maybe you could give us a tour one of these days then," Fredrick interjected, smiling at him from over his glass of water. He spared a glance at his wife, gripping her hand tightly but it looked different this time. Less pained.

"Oh yes, you'll know all the right places to go to and we'll get to talk," Helena said.

"Percy and I still have full-time jobs," Annabeth interjected. "I doubt we'd be able to take off enough time to show you around town."

"I mean, I work odd hours so," Percy said but Annabeth's eye twitched a little at that so he switched gears. "I could give you some pointers on what to check out when you're flying solo though."

So that's what he did. Percy launched into the second most interesting topic in the world: his city. He had recommendations on every experience under the sun (the best ice cream shop is on fifth but if you want the most interesting it's two blocks over, they have spinach artichoke which honestly is as bad as it sounds). He was always happy to blather on about the city but the entire experience was made a million times better as he physically felt Annabeth relax next to him the longer the conversation grew.

She went from sitting tensely beside him, their sides still glued together, to utterly relaxed, muscles standing down one by one as the dinner waxed on and he carried the conversation. The side she was pressed against burned red hot and he was aware of every connection point between the two of them. He barely tasted the food when it came and if pressed probably couldn't have even told anyone what he ate.

He couldn't remember the last time he had such a good time.

"Oh you're pulling my leg," Fredrick exclaimed as Percy finished a story about the time he and Leo thought it was a good idea to roll Jason down a hill in the snow and Jason ended up sliding right into a skating rink, taking out a couple of skaters in the process.

"Nope, wish I was," Percy grinned.

"The check, sir."

Percy froze at the words as the waiter suddenly materialized at Fredrick's side, panic clogging his throat. Oh god, how bad was it going to be? Did he bring separate checks, what if—

"Oh yeah," Fredrick said, as if paying for their very expensive meal was a trivial detail that had slipped his mind. He held out a bright red credit card between two fingers for the waiter to take. "Here you go, put it all on there."

"You don't have to," Percy said weakly, but this was more from the relief that slammed into his lungs than an actual objection.

"I insist," Fredrick said, waving off Percy's half-heartened protest. "What's a father for anyway if he can't take his little girl and her boyfriend out sometimes?"

Percy hummed, which felt the wisest decision as Annabeth tensed up again at the words _little girl_.

"Well, if you insist," Percy said, then, because his mother didn't raise a complete heathen, "thank you."

Fredrick smiled, "It's our pleasure."

Fredrick continued to smile across the table at Annabeth and Percy. He was still holding his wife's hand but the grip had relaxed into something gentler, and Percy looked away, feeling like an intruder.

"Thank you guys for meeting with us tonight," Fredrick said and the sincerity in his words made Percy's head spin a little.

"Thank you for taking us," Annabeth replied but it kind of sounded more like an automatic response than something genuine.

Fredrick's smile turned a little sad and Percy thought that maybe her father realized it too.

"Okay sweetheart," he said, his voice soft and quiet. "Well, Helena and I will leave you alone for the night. We'll see you sometime tomorrow?"

He looked like he half expected Annabeth to say no. The dim lights from the lamp on the wall cast his face in shadow, making him look much older.

"Yeah Dad, I'll call you when I get out of work," Annabeth said and her voice had dropped in gentleness as well.

"Thank you," Fredrick repeated.

He stood, waiting a moment for Helena to gather her purse and stand as well. As he left, he hesitated, then leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Annabeth's head. It seemed to drain all the energy out of the blonde, who sighed.

"Goodnight, Dad," Annabeth said. "Thank you for dinner."

This one sounded genuine. Percy busied himself watching a drop of condensation work its way down his mostly empty water as the father-daughter duo bid each other good night, and kept his eyes focused on the droplet as though it were the most interesting thing in the world as the Chases took their leave. Annabeth didn't say anything for a moment, sitting perfectly immobile at his side.

"Are you ready to leave?" she asked, finally breaking the silence after a long moment.

"Yep, whenever you are," Percy readily agreed and they were out the door in a matter of seconds.

They walked side by side in silence. Percy shoved his hands into his pockets as Annabeth lifted her face to the wind.

"So, ah, that went well?" Percy hedged, balling his fingers into fists as they walked.

"It did actually," Annabeth agreed. The wind whipped a stray blond curl about her face. "Thank you. It would have been . . . without you . . . well, thank you."

"Like I keep saying, it's no problem."

Annabeth gave a small huff, rewarding his crooked smile with one of her straight ones.

"Alright. Well, I have to head over to the museum to pick up some papers, so this is where I leave you."

"Yeah okay . . . well, you have my number," Percy said with a cheerfulness he didn't quite feel, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

They stared awkwardly at each other.

"Do you want me to walk you . . . ?"

"No! No, I'm okay. I'll just take a cab, but, ah, thank you. Besides, I can take care of myself anyway."

"I believe that," Percy said with a half quirked smile, knowing all too well how intimidating the blonde could be. All the apartment building men were far too afraid of Annabeth to cross her; she got the entire floor's male population to stop doing laundry in any state of undress by the force of her glare alone.

Annabeth's eyes crinkled as though she were thinking the same thing, turning half sideways to wave down a taxi. The restaurant's lights illuminated the back of her head, causing a golden glow to shimmer along the edge of her curls.

"It didn't go bad," Percy repeated softly.

"No, it really didn't," Annabeth agreed. "The beginning was . . . but by the end, it was sort of enjoyable. We weren't at each other's throats. I had no idea my father felt so strongly about hot dogs."

"Hot dogs are serious business," Percy teased, eyes fixed on a strand of her hair as a light breeze caused it to float free around her face.

Annabeth gave a light shiver, her arms crossing across her chest to ward off the cold and Percy instinctively hunched over, turning his back to the wind to shield her from its chill. The movement drew both of their attention to how close they were standing to each other, his head bent over hers, his forehead basically touching her hair. Her gray eyes flickered up to met his green ones and Percy swore his heart stopped.

"Hey! You gettin' in or not, I don' have all night!"

Annabeth jumped back as though electrified at the harsh voice, whirling to find the taxi she'd waved down impatiently waiting at the curb, the driver glaring at them.

"Oh ah, yeah, coming," Annabeth said, hastily climbing into the cab before Percy's brain could come back online.

"So ah, I'll see you around then?" Percy asked, bending over to maintain eye contact as she settled inside the cab, his brain still struggling to keep up, caught back thirty seconds ago when he almost thought . . .

"Yeah, I'll call you," Annabeth promised with a curt nod. Were her cheeks red or was it just the lighting?

"Great," Percy grinned and he swore he saw his neighbor smile back before the taxi tore out of the curb, racing off into the streets.

Percy stood awkwardly at the curb watching the taxi disappear around the corner, his now abandoned side oddly cold, until his heart returned to a reasonable level before beginning his long walk home.

* * *

 **A/n Holy smokes the boy just wouldn't shut up. A thousand thank yous again to my amazing beta rhig122 for cheerleading this beast along and giving me the idea for Jason taking out a bunch of skaters! I hope this was a reasonable first 'date.' Also, the restaurant is real but the food Percy ordered is not because they don't have an appetizer menu, so that is stolen from Olive Garden. Thank you to everybody who favorited, followed and reviewed. You guys are honestly the best, I wouldn't be able to do this without you. I just started a Master's program so I am more than a little swamped therefore updates will be slow coming, kindly bear with me, I'm slowly drowning in coursework.**

 **Please let me know what you thought and, as always, I hope you enjoyed ~ ***


	4. Chapter 4

~ * Art of Observation ~ *

* * *

Chapter Four

* * *

After the whirlwind dinner, things were . . . weirdly calm. Percy got up in the morning, edited photos, sometimes went out on shoots, sometimes stared at the wall and hoped the pictures would edit themselves, nipped down to see his mom, broke a bowl (that left him with a grand total of two now), and put out a fire that Leo inexplicably managed to start.

So, normal stuff.

No texts from Annabeth. No random encounters in the hallway from the Chases.

It was oddly disappointing. Percy frequently found himself running his finger over the keyboard, worrying away on a pen cap, half a message typed out to Annabeth only to erase it and drown his sorrows in his mom's homemade cookies. Well, what was he supposed to say anyway? _I had a weirdly good time at dinner? Can we do it again some time?_

It had been three days since what Percy had liked to mentally call The Dinner (yes, with the capital letters). The Takanas' pictures were stressing him out and, with their second appointment looming on the horizon, he felt ready to claw out of his skin. So when his cell phone started ringing, he attributed the pleasant lull of ocean waves to temporary insanity as opposed to his ringtone. When it happened a second time, he stared dumbfounded at his phone as its screen lit up, buzzing gently along with the soothing ringtone.

Somebody was calling him.

Oh shit, somebody was calling him.

"Ah, h-hello, hello," Percy stammered, making the lunge across his bed to grab the device, legs tangling in the sheets and laptop in serious danger of being catapulted across the room. "Ah, Percy Jackson, professional photographer speaking."

"Hello Percy, it's Annabeth Chase."

"Annabeth?" Percy repeated, trying not to sound too thrilled. He cleared his throat, trying to safely and silently detangle himself from the sheets. "Ah, hi, how are you?"

"Fine," came the rather brisk answer. There was a slew of background noise, garbled voices and the whirling of the wind echoing across the line.

"What are you doing in an hour?"

Percy looked at his laptop, Drew Tanaka's heavily make-upped face smirking from its odd angle abreast the edge of the bed.

"Just editing some pictures but it can wait, what's up?"

"I wanted to meet for coffee or something," Annabeth said, a car honking loudly in the background. Percy could practically smell taxi exhaust by the sound alone. "To come up with some more stories. I apparently don't talk enough about you."

"Oh, yeah okay," Percy quickly agreed, finally managing to free himself and barely avoiding breaking his neck on the ground.

"There's a coffee shop nearby where I work," Annabeth said, rattling off the street names, "Can you meet me there in an hour?

"Totally, yeah, you got it," Percy said, "I know exactly where that's at."

"I figured you would. I'll buy you a coffee."

"You don't have to—"

"Jackson, shut up and accept the coffee. I'll see you in an hour."

"Ma'am, yes ma'am."

Percy didn't pump the air when the call disconnected but he may have bounded to the bathroom with a mild spring to his step. First order of business was to put some pants on (he lived alone, there was no need for him to suffer jeans). Upon consideration, he threw on a new shirt as well. He brushed his teeth, tried to comb his hair and spent twenty minutes staring at Drew Tanaka's face before giving up and stowing the computer away.

He arrived outside the coffee shop five minutes early. It was a locally owned little corner shop, full of sleep-deprived humanities majors and wanna-be-edgy high school hipsters, dotted with the occasional overworked business professional sucking down an entire pot's worth of coffee.

Annabeth was already inside, sitting at a high top corner table. She was frowning, her hair pulled into a tight bun with no less than two pens tucked behind her ear. Her chin rested in the palm of her hand, the other hand tapping a pen furiously against a thick stack of papers. She looked decidedly miserable, two colorfully designed coffee cups sitting before her.

"Ah, hey," Percy said, approaching cautiously as so not to startle her.

She glanced up at him, sparing him the barest hint of a smile which felt like a win.

"I didn't know what you liked . . ." she said, gesturing towards the coffee cups. "Mine is a tea latte. Yours is just regular black coffee. If you don't like it, you can just go get something else, I just—"

"It's good, it's all good, thank you," Percy assured her quickly even though he'd never drank black coffee before in his entire life, taking the seat across from her.

She had helpfully laid out about six creamers and a handful of sweeteners on a napkin next to his coffee cup. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he'd need like half a cup of each to make the coffee bearable. He wondered if he could discreetly make a trip to the milk station . . . probably not.

"So ah, how's work, ah, going?" Percy asked, staring at her portfolio. She had doodled some weird linear designs on the cover, nothing more than light sketches in pencil but it was fascinating, it almost looked like—

Annabeth opened the portfolio. "Just a lot of things, you know how it goes. Dad and Helena have been asking a lot about you though. They've been going to all those places you've mentioned."

"Did they hit up that ice cream shop yet?" Percy asked with a wide grin, pouring in all the creamers she'd laid out for him. He considered the various packets of multicolored sweeteners before mentally shrugging and pouring every single one in as well. It's not like the weird concoction of raw sugar and Sweet 'N' Low could make the coffee taste any worse. "Don't try fish. I know, I've been there. It seems like a good idea at first and the first taste really isn't all that bad, but the after taste man, totally not worth it."

Annabeth snorted, reaching out to take a sip of her drink as Percy put the lid back on his own. "Believe it or not, I didn't think fish ice cream sounded good."

"You have more brains than me I guess."

"But what I need," Annabeth said, diverting the conversation back on track, "is something new to tell them. I am running out of things to say."

"Oh," Percy said and had to down a swig of the nasty bitter coffee to prevent himself from offering to take her to the ice cream place right now, just the two of them. _Get it together,_ he reminded himself firmly, trying not to gag as his taste buds caught up with his actions. He hoped his face didn't look as disgusted as he felt.

"Well, okay, where do you want to start?"

"I don't know," Annabeth said with a sigh, drumming her pen against the table as she stared over his shoulder at the bustling baristas. "I'm not good at this kind of stuff."

"I don't think anybody's _good_ at fake dating."

Annabeth snorted at that, shaking her head as she sipped her tea latte. "I meant being creative."

"Oh, yeah that makes more sense," Percy grimaced at his own stupidity. "But ah, you just aren't used to the pull-out-of-thin-air creative stuff. I mean, you're the museum curator, yeah? So you gotta what, appraise art and stuff right? That requires a different kind of creativity."

"I mostly appraise the value and time period of the pieces," Annabeth objected with a shake of her golden curls. "It doesn't take an ounce of creativity. I just look at the facts and the science behind the data and determine where and when the pieces came from so the museum can group them accordingly."

"Okay, yeah, but like don't you decide what goes on display? Like, you gotta know which pieces will be more popular?"

"I'm pretty good at guessing, but again it's not about taste or an eye for art. It's about knowing what people want, what the trends in the New York art scene are at the moment, reading the cultural climate as it changes and adapting the exhibits to best reflect and cater to it."

"So you're telling me you've never put a piece on display that the data didn't tell you because you had a gut feeling it would be popular? I'm calling bull on that."

"A few times," Annabeth admitted, and she took a drink of her latte to hide her smile. "But there's nothing creative about that. There are always gaps in the data I can fill in with my own personal knowledge of this city and art trends. Just because a picture doesn't have any data behind it to suggest it won't be popular doesn't mean I can't logically conclude it will be, based on its similarities to other work and their respective popularities."

Percy shrugged with a grin of his own. "And it takes creativity to do that. Or you know good art when you see it. Maybe not the kind of creativity that actually creates something but it's still there. Besides, I saw what you doodled on your cover—"

Annabeth's face flushed and Percy's words caught in his breath at the uncharacteristic display.

"Oh, you saw that?" Annabeth asked, moving her papers around to completely obscure the cover from sight, looking more flustered than he'd ever seen her before. Come to think of it, he didn't think he'd _ever_ seen her flustered before.

"Yeah," Percy said, unsure if he should push the point or not. "Was . . . wasn't it a building?"

Annabeth propped her elbow on the table, chin in hand. She flicked through her papers, not meeting his eye.

"I mean, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—like if it's private or something—ah, gods, I'm sorry—"

"No, it's . . . it's just embarrassing." Annabeth wrinkled her nose. "A stupid, old dream of mine, it's nothing really. Just when I'm bored or frustrated I just sketch—it's doesn't matter, it's not important. It's stupid."

"You're talking to a failed marine photographer," Percy reminded her gently, grinning with just enough earnestness and self-depreciation. "I know a thing or two about stupid old dreams that will never go anywhere." His smiled faded. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but . . . but in my experience, they're never stupid. And they're never unimportant."

"You're not a failed photographer, I saw the pictures in your apartment."

"All unpublished and unbought but the one on the fridge," Percy said with a shrug, too used to the sting of failure to try and pretend otherwise. He _was_ a failed marine photographer, there was no use lying about it. It wasn't like she wouldn't notice, him being on land and running off to do grad parties and what-not instead of the ocean.

Annabeth stared at him, fingers splayed out across her lips. She looked at conflict with herself, like she felt she had to tell him her secrets since he just confessed to being a total failure.

"You don't have to tell me," Percy assured her, taking another drink of coffee and managing not to make a face as it burned his throat with its bitterness. "I just . . . whatever it is, it's not stupid. Dreams aren't stupid." He picked at the cup sleeve, peeling back the outer layer of the cardboard. "Only idiot dreamers who don't know when to quit are, I guess."

That, maybe, was too self-deprecating.

"So," Percy said too loudly before Annabeth could take pity on him, draining half the coffee in a burst of nervous energy that made him gag. "God that's disg—too hot. Still too hot, my bad. Anyway, story time, that's the whole point of this wasn't it?"

Annabeth's gray eyes bored into him, too knowing and oh god, _pitying._ "Percy—"

"I'm good at bullshit, I've been doing it my whole life, and we can definitely pull something together with my nonsense and your smartness."

"Yeah, I know," Annabeth said, letting him have his way. "Do you want to get a drink you actually like?"

"What? No, what are you talking about, I love coffee, nice hot plain coffee —"

"Are you going to do a better job lying to my dad and Helena or should I find a new fake boyfriend who's more convincing?"

"Excuse you, I'm a _great_ liar, did you see my performance at the dinner the other night? And I don't know what you're talking about, I love this coffee." With that, Percy looked her dead in the eye and downed the rest of the cup. He slammed the empty cup down on the table, keeping his mouth firmly shut for a heartbeat to ensure the disgusting concoction wasn't about to come back up.

"See?" he asked and his voice was only a little higher than normal thanks to the strain of trying not to gag.

Annabeth burst into laughter, a delightfully unattractive snort tearing from her lips before the laughter came, her shoulders hunching over as she tried to stem the flow by pressing her hand over her mouth.

"Told ya," Percy said with a wide grin.

"Oh god." Annabeth looked up at him, but she only started sniggering again, so she looked over her shoulder at the window to compose herself. "Oh god, you're such an idiot."

"Yep." He obnoxiously popped the p. "You sure know how to pick 'em."

"Seriously, I'll pay, just go get something you actually like."

"Seriously? After all that you still doubt me. I'm wounded, Annabeth, wounded to my core."

"Is this what your poor mother had to put up with all these years?"

"She shipped me off to Dad to get peace sometimes."

"She must be something unworldly if she put up your ridiculousness all these years and still wants you around."

"My mom is a goddess on earth," Percy confirmed. "She'd like you."

That made Annabeth pause, her smile freezing on her face and Percy remembered with a jolt that _no, you're not actually dating, you idiot._ She would probably never meet his mom. She had no _reason_ to meet his mom. Random neighbors didn't warrant parental introductions.

"Right, anyway," Percy said, wishing he hadn't downed the coffee so he could do something to shut himself up. He tore the rest of the cup sleeve, letting the cardboard fall away from the cup. "So stories—"

"Um, actually, my lunch is almost up and I need to head back to the museum," Annabeth apologized, turning her phone over to look at the time.

"Oh," Percy said, disappointed. "Shit. I'm sorry, I just talked nonsense for like half an hour when you needed actual help."

"No, no it's," Annabeth's brow furrowed. "This was good actually, really good. I think I'm okay. I have more things to talk about now. I . . . this was good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, okay," Percy said, feeling warm inside. He risked a small smile and Annabeth shook her head, dare he say, _fondly_ at him.

"I'll be a little busy the next few days," Annabeth warned as she stood, gathering her papers together and tucking them into her folder in a very organized manner. "So you probably won't hear from me or Dad until the weekend at least. But I'll text you and keep you updated, okay?"

"Aye, aye, Captain," Percy said, saluting her.

She rolled her eyes but she was also smiling so Percy counted it as a win.

"I'll catch you around Percy," she said.

"I'll be around," Percy assured her, leaning forward and crossing his arms as she waved him off with a tip of her latte.

She swept through the store in long, fluid strides with more grace then should have been possible in such a crowded space. As she turned sideways to shoulder the café door open, his eyes couldn't help falling to the folder at her side, lingering on the penciled outline of a half-sketched skyscraper before she slipped through the cracks and disappeared into the busy streets of the city.

He stared at the busy street outside the café for longer than appropriate for someone who wasn't actually caught in the throes of a new relationship (or for someone who had like a billion pictures to edit), sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair as he absentmindedly tore the coffee sleeve to tiny shreds. It was only when the afternoon rush flooded in and sleep deprived college students began to throw him dirty looks as they crowded three too many around impractically small tables that he decided it was time to go. He swept the shredded cardboard pieces into his empty coffee cup, making a face at the clump of sweeter at the bottom before tossing it in the trash and making his way back to his apartment.

He spent the rest of the day between the four walls of his bedroom. He finished off the rest of the shrimp ramen noodles and editing the set for the graduation kid from earlier that week. He even managed to chip away at the Tanakas' dreadful shoot, stress chewing the cap of only two pens into unusable tangles of plastic before the night was through.

"Alright, that's enough adulting," Percy decided, tossing his laptop carelessly onto his bed as he stood up.

He stretched towards the ceilings, arching his back and standing on tiptoe to force blood flow back into his still limbs, fingers almost brushing against the ceiling as he watched his laptop bounce about on the perpetually unmade sheets. He figured he should be more concerned that the instrument crucial to his erratic paychecks was in danger crashing to the floor, but it came to a safe resting place in the middle of his bed so it was all good.

"Alright," he repeated to himself as he rooted around in his closet until he found his most precious possessions, a black canvas bag with a shimmering blue trident on the corner.

Percy unzipped it and reached inside, double checking that his dry suit was present and accounted for. But, more importantly, he gently pulled out his undersea camera, turning the precious instrument over in his hands with reverence. Finding everything in the same pristine condition he left them, Percy tucked everything back away and stood up. With a grin, he snapped open his phone and dialed his brother.

"Hey Tri, what are you up to? What—wait—no, actually, I don't want to hear this, I don't actually want to know what you're up too— _Triton!_ God, no don't tell me these things. Look, are you up for a dive tonight? No, you can't bring a date. Triton, I'm serious, I don't want the Coast Guard to pick us up for indecent exposure. Fine, I'll just ask Rhode—what? No, I can't just go alone. Amphitrite threatened to kill me if I did that again. Uh-huh. Uh-huh."

Percy rolled his eyes as he grabbed his keys from the counter. "You don't have to come, I just thought I'd ask. Rhode's cooler anyway, I just didn't want to bother her. No, I don't care if I bother you. Come or don't come, I don't—yeah, yeah, I'm taking the subway. Cool, alright, I'll see you there."

He may be an underpaid, intermittently employed city photographer by day, but he still a hopelessly optimistic oceanographer by night. Percy couldn't afford a cab or an Uber to the Upper Bay, but he was a card-carrying subway rider, so he cradled his precious packages on his lap as he sat in the near-empty subway and closed his eyes as he waited for his stop.

The Upper Bay wasn't the prettiest bay in the world, but she was teeming with diverse marine life.

"Hey Tri," Percy greeted when his brother showed up ten minutes later, already halfway geared up. "Here come, give me a hand won't you?"

Triton made a face, sunglasses perched obnoxiously on his face because he was the kind of idiot who wore sunglasses at night because he thought it made him look badass.

"Why are you in such a good mood?" he asked, taking his sunglasses off and perching them on his head as he narrowed his eyes at his brother. "And why can't you ever dive in the daytime on the weekends like a normal person instead of in the middle of the night on a freakin' Tuesday like an asshole."

"You didn't have to come," Percy said, rolling his eyes as he turned so his brother could finish zipping him up all the way.

"Oh, and let you go night diving all by yourself?" Triton sneered. "Please. Mom would cut me into a million piece and use me as shark bait if I did that. Like it's somehow my responsibility to drop and everything and run because Princess Percy wants a midnight swim and can't control himself and not go when someone tells him no."

"She dumped you, huh?" Percy asked with a sympathetic click of his tongue. "You should have told her that you used to date her sister."

"I don't know why it matters, and we didn't _date,_ we just—"

"Yeah, dude, that makes it worse."

"Shut up, Princess," Triton said, adjusting Percy's suit like he was a child or something. Percy shoved his hands away, but Triton pulled him back in, securing Percy in a headlock. "Little asshole, stop squirming, you've got—stop that, I'm trying to help, you ungrateful—"

"What are you, my mother, stop that," Percy complained, shoving against his brother which turned into a semi-wrestling match that only ended when Triton fell over his own equipment bag and ate dirt.

"That's what you deserve," Percy laughed, pulling his gloves on. "Stop sulking, it's not like you don't get dumped all the time."

"That's rich coming from someone who hasn't had a date in almost a year," Triton snarked right now.

"Actually I—" _had a date today,_ Percy thought but didn't finish. Because he hadn't. He hadn't had a date today. He met his neighbor for coffee so they could come up with a lie to feed her parents because she told them she had a boyfriend when she didn't.

Triton raised an eyebrow, fiddling with his diving gear as he looked up at his brother. "What? No, don't tell me, your ex-girlfriend is back in town."

"No, Rachel's still in Greece, you know what, it doesn't matter, let's just go. Got the flag? Awesome."

* * *

"Triton, you let him sleep in his dry suit?"

Percy groaned, trying to roll over as Amphitrite's disapproving voice called from a place too close to his ears. He couldn't quite manage it, which meant he was probably on the couch at his dad's.

"Why is it always my fault when Percy does something stupid? He's a grown-ass man who decided to sleep in his disgusting dry suit instead of changing, how is that _my—"_

Percy groaned again, throwing an arm over his eyes and immediately regretting it. He wrinkled his nose at the stiffness of his dry suit, caked with dried sand and covered in crusted over god only knows whatever other gunk that floated around in the bay. Ugh, and it smelled too.

"I was waiting for it to dry, sorry," Percy muttered and he felt Amphitrite draw closer to his resting place. "Meant to change. Sorry."

"That's why," his stepmother scolded, a gentle hand reaching down to card through Percy's probably equally disgusting hair. "He was tired. You should have woken him so he could change."

"Oh, of course, like I wasn't tired or anything—"

Amphitrite ignored Triton, tugging on Percy's arm. Percy let his arm fall away from his face and squinted up at his stepmother. Amphitrite raised one eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed at his life choices but there was a hint of a smile on her exasperate face.

"Have a good dive?" she asked.

"Yeah, here I got pictures," Percy groaned as he tried to sit up. He made a face as he felt sand shift and slide around in the dry suit, the material sticking uncomfortably to his skin.

"Shower first," Amphitrite instructed, backing away. "You smell. Triton, come help me with breakfast."

"What, seriously? Why do I have to—"

"Why does a, how did you put it, a grown-ass thirty-two-year-old man still live with his parents? I don't know. Come, you can make the eggs."

Sniggering, Percy watched as his stepmother strode purposefully towards the kitchen. Triton trailed behind her, picking up a throw pillow from a chair at the entrance of the living room and chucking it at Percy's head as he passed through. Percy ducked, laughing louder as Triton flipped him off. Leaving the pair be, Percy got to his feet and ran off to the shower.

"Did you fall asleep in your dry suit again?" Poseidon asked when he emerged twenty minutes later, taking a moment to look up as his youngest son joined him at the island near the stove where Triton slaved away under Amphitrite's instructions. "You're going to ruin our couch."

"You throw your suits wherever you please. There's a saltwater stain on the floor of our bedroom that can't be erased and the lounge smells permanently of fish," Amphitrite reminded Poseidon with a glare over her shoulder that had his father looking at his laptop like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"I thought it was better the couch than the bed," Percy offered, sitting down on the stool and jumping at the cool of the marble against his still shower flushed skin. "And I thought you said—"

"It is better," Amphitrite assured him, sliding a plate down the island, which Percy mercifully caught. The scrambled eggs only kind of rolled off the sides a little; he was able to save most of them. The smell was absolutely divine and he didn't hesitate to dig in, grateful to be eating anything that wasn't ramen noodles.

"You said what now?" Poseidon asked, frowning at his wife. "We just bought that couch, Amphitrite, we don't need—"

"Who said anything about getting a new couch?"

"You said you liked the color."

"I did, didn't I? Do you want any bacon, Percy?"

"Yes please," Percy asked, unbothered by the passive-aggressive argument as he held his plate out.

"You told me the color was fine—"

"Percy, why don't you upload the pictures onto your father's laptop so we can all take a look?"

"Eh?" Percy asked, mouth half full of bacon. He wiped his hands on his jeans, shoving in a bite of scrambled eggs. "Yeah, alright, hang on."

Breakfast consisted of the four of them huddled around Poseidon's laptop, his father grumbling about 'doesn't like the couch, takes my laptop', and Triton spilling coffee onto Percy's lap as he reached across to criticize Percy's photography skills.

"Shut up, you're just mad because it came out of nowhere and scared you," Percy grumbled, shoving at Triton, not that it did him a lot of good. Triton, on Percy's right, leaned his entire body weight on his brother like the jerk he was.

"Did not," Triton denied, squishing Percy against Poseidon's side as he moved his stool closer to get a better view.

"They're all good shots," Amphitrite interrupted in her no-nonsense voice. Percy preened a little. Amphitrite might be a little biased but she was always honest and her praise would forever fill Percy with pride.

"These ones here, add these to your website," Amphitrite told him, highlighting the photographs in question.

"And the sturgeon," Poseidon said, tapping the picture.

"Yeah, that one's a little badass," Triton said, taking a big bite of breakfast and chewing right in Percy's ear.

Percy made a face and tried in vain to shove him away again, not that it did him any more good the second time than it did the first. He was too preoccupied with the photograph that Poseidon pointed out to care much, however.

It _was_ a good picture. It was probably Percy's favorite picture from the entire night. The sturgeon was half twisted in the inky water, the barest hint of moonlight sparkling off its glistening eyes and silver tail. Its snout poked curiously into the center of a red beard sponge, which cglowed like a warm flame in the depths of the near hellish darkness that surrounded it.

Yeah, it was definitely Percy's favorite.

"Yes, that one too," Amphitrite agreed. "Here, why don't you edit and upload right from your father's computer, so you don't forget later tonight."

"I wouldn't—"

"Yes, you will," Triton snorted.

"Yes, just volunteer my computer, it isn't like I have work to do or anything?" Poseidon said with a dramatic sigh, letting Percy pull the computer towards him so he could log onto his website.

"Thanks, Dad," Percy said as everyone ignored his complaining.

"Hm."

Percy logged onto his website, amazed as always at how much faster his dad's internet was than his own. Opening his editing software, Percy went to work. God, editing sturgeon and rays was so much better than spoiled pet chihuahuas and stuck up daughters of millionaires.

"What's her name?"

He got so caught up in what he was doing that he completely forgot his father was there. Percy jumped and blinked over at his father. Poseidon contemplated him from over the rip of his "OKAYEST DAD" coffee cup Rhode bought him years ago, an unreadable look in his eye.

"Huh?" Percy asked, not understanding. "The Atlantic sturgeon?"

"No, not the fish, Perseus," his father said with a pained sigh like Percy's stupidity physically hurt him. "The girl, what's her name?"

"What girl?" Percy asked, looking back at his photographs with a moment of wild panic, wondering if a girl was in one of the pictures.

"The girl that's got you like this."

Percy froze, heart hammering in his chest. He scanned his memory, trying to recall if he'd accidentally mentioned Annabeth or their weird arrangement at all over the course of breakfast, but he came up blank.

Poseidon leaned forward. "You let Triton be obnoxious without threatening him bodily harm once. You two didn't argue _at all_ during breakfast. You didn't shove him off his chair. You went on a night dive last night, captured some very impressive pictures, but didn't wake up and steal my computer to aggressively edit and upload them, sulking in the corner by yourself." Poseidon folded his arms. "What's her name?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hm." Poseidon took another drink of coffee. "You're too much of a romantic, my boy. It's all over your face." Percy's face burned. He opened his mouth, found he had nothing to say and closed it again. Poseidon smiled at him, a bit fond and a bit sad. "You let yourself fall in love too easily, son."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Percy said.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

* * *

 **A/n I am alive, but only just. Anyway, here's a chapter I stress wrote instead of studying for a gigantic test I definitely should be studying for. So I'm off to study now. Please enjoy and cheer me up with your delightful thoughts. Thank you so much for your patience. You guys are truly the best.**

 **Shout out to rhig122 for editing this so quickly lol love ya**

 **I hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think ~ ***


	5. Chapter 5

~ * Chapter 5 ~ *

* * *

"Tilt your head just a little bit more—no wait too much, a little—yes, okay, perfect don't move," Percy instructed.

Opposite him, the subject of the shoot smiled. Well, it was less of a smile and more of a predatory bearing of the teeth beneath red painted lips. Rhodes stood behind her sterile-white desk, her midnight blue blazer a stark contrast against the minimalistic and modern office as she leaned forward, hands braced against the barren desk. Her normally wild, black curls were tightly wound atop her head, save for a few wild tendrils that tumbled around her ears, drawing attention to her sharp jaw and nose. She looked ready to straight-up murder a man with her three-inch stiletto heels . . . although, to be fair, she always looked one wrong word away from manslaughter.

"Got it, you're all set, you can like move or scratch your nose or whatever," Percy said, straightening up and checking his camera.

"Pft." Rhodes pushed off her desk, her heels clicking in loud, sharp staccatos as she stalked over to where he stood.

"Good?"

"Perfect," Percy said with a grin, turning the camera so she could see some of the images as he flicked through. "I wish every shoot went so smoothly. The blazer was perfect. Is your desk always this bare or do you just like not do any work here?"

Rhodes laughed, a sharp sound that cut through the air like a knife. It was a sound that courtrooms across New York hated, but to Percy, it just reminded him of diving after dark in murky, shark-infested waters, and near-death encounters with illegal fishermen. Which sounded unpleasant but were really the highlight of Percy's childhood (teenhood? Rhodes hadn't taken him on her more dangerous adventures until he was thirteen, but she was getting him into trouble long before that).

"Cute," she teased, pinching his cheek.

Percy batted her hand away and she laughed again, strolling back to her desk to grab her purse, which she had expertly hidden out of sight behind one of the legs. She slipped the purse down to her elbow and walked towards the door.

"Come on then, little brother, let's grab some lunch and talk shop. There's a sweet little sandwich shop on the first floor—all their food is sustainable and responsibly sourced. The vegan BLT is to die for."

"Sure, I'll take your word for it," said Percy, who was one hundred percent positive he would rather go hungry than try the vegan BLT.

(But he made a mental note to bring Grover by. Rhodes and Grover were two weird peas in a pod, her being an environmental attorney and him with his environmental science degree. Percy supposed working in similar industries would do that, even if Rhodes's methods were more extreme and hostile in nature while Grover was more of a peace and love kind of dude).

"So, these are for your magazine and not the website, right?"

"The magazine," Rhodes confirmed, linking her arm through his and leading him towards the white hallway of her office building.

Rhodes was an inch taller than him without the heels and he felt like a bumbling teenager once again as he looked up at her with these stupid 3-inch death traps on. Then again, maybe he never grew out of the bumbling idiot stage of his life, Percy thought as he somehow managed to whack his nose against the door when Rhodes opened it. Rhodes laughed at him some more, dragging him down the hallway. Her associates all ducked their heads and scuttled out of the way as Rhodes strutted by, casting looks that were equal parts frightened and awed.

"Want to have a piece for our win at the courts."

"I thought you hadn't won yet?"

Rhodes granted him one of her knife-sharp grins. "Not yet, little brother. But we will."

 _She's going to eat that defense attorney alive,_ Percy thought as she pulled him into the elevator.

"And the fact that you got arrested in February for destruction of—"

"–they were illegally imported fish—they were, dammit Percy, they were sunfish—"

"I know Rhodes, but you can't set _fire_ to people's boats—"

"It won't affect the case," Rhodes dismissed.

"Should you be doing this shit while you're still on the FBI watchlist as a potential eco-terrorist threat?"

Rhodes's grin was answer enough. Percy thought for a moment, then swung his camera up and snapped a picture of his sister.

"Gotta get pictures in before they arrest you for being crazy and unstable." He patted her on the arm as the elevator dinged. "Don't worry, I'll visit." He paused, head cocked to the side. "Sometimes."

Rhodes snorted. "Please. Like a judge could ever convict me. And you'd visit me every week. Your life would be too boring without me, baby brother."

She scrapped her daggerlike fingernails through his hair, something she'd done ever since he was a baby and something he'd hated ever since he was a baby. He shoved her away and she pulled him back, ruffling his hair one more time and placing a wet kiss on his head.

"God, you're so gross, stop it, Rhodes, I'm twenty-five years old you can't be doing this to me."

"But you'll always be our baby brother," Rhodes cooed, pinching his cheeks. "Come on, I'm starving."

Percy made a face but didn't resist too much as Rhodes dragged him off the elevator and into the main lobby. Percy blinked rapidly, trying to force his eyes to adjust as they stepped into what both he and Rhodes affectionately called the fishbowl due to its all-glass walls. Rhodes didn't give him time to adjust, dragging him over to the newly opened cafe. People darted out of their path, hiding away in corner booths or looking down at their shoes as though it made them invisible. Like marlin before a shark, Percy thought before he was being shepparded into the cafe line.

"I'll have the vegan BLT and a large iced coffee, black," Rhodes waved a hand at Percy, "and whatever he's having. Put it on my tab."

"Rhodes, you don't have to—"

"–shut up and pick a food. Besides, you're my photographer, so, technically, this is a business expense."

Percy snorted, his inside squirming a little as he squinted at the menu. He hated when Rhodes paid for things. He knew she was just trying to be helpful. He also knew it wasn't fair to compare his career/financial situation with Rhodes'—she was fifteen years older than him after all. She'd also gone to law school and didn't chase after a fool's dream. But still, the stark reminder of how spectacularly he'd failed in life thus far that he couldn't even afford one overpriced sandwich made him want to crawl inside an underwater cave and never come out.

"Try the opened faced cod sandwich with kettle chips."

"Yeah, alright," Percy acquiesced with a sigh.

They found a table near the front, Rhodes slamming her tray down with more force than necessary. His sister made a ton of noise as she got settled, dragging the chair against the floor at just the right angle so it made an angry screeching sound, her shoes clicking loudly as she settled in and kicked her feet up on the seat next to the chair Percy claimed in a far quieter fashion opposite her.

"Let's square up now," Rhodes said, stealing one of his kettle chips and popping it into her mouth.

She crunched with her mouth open as she settled back into her seat, taking a long drink of her disgusting coffee as she groped around for her purse. She finally found it and plopped it on the table, pulling out a checkbook.

"A checkbook, what century is this?"

"I could Venmo you, but then the firm might accuse me of favoritism."

"That's fair."

She scribbled on the check and signed with an unnecessary flourish, tearing the check out and handing it across the table to him. Percy grabbed the offered item and Rhodes set back, reaching for her coffee once more.

"What no, hey, Rhodes you can't pay me this much," Percy said eyes widening at the number on the check.

Rhodes made a noise, waving her hand as she took a bite of her sandwich.

"Rhodes, no, I'm serious. This was barely even a shoot, it was just a couple snaps for a magazine cover."

"If you think for one second that whole 'it's barely even a shoot' thing would fly with any of the big photographers in town, you're dead wrong. They'd charge me an arm and a leg just to show up. If you think I'd pay any other photographer less," Rhodes snorted talking with her mouth full because none of his father's children had manners. "We're a humanitarian firm, we do shit like this, just, just take it, all right? And stop your bellyaching. It's not _charity,_ it's payment."

Percy shoved a handful of kettle chips in his mouth, dropping the subject. He tucked the check away in his camera bag. His discomfort and self-loathing must have shown on his face because Rhodes reached across the table and patted his hand.

"Come, come, little brother knock that shit off. You're an _amazing_ photographer and deserve to get paid as such. Besides, it's not like you're a deadbeat. You've got jobs and your own apartment—which is more than I can say for a certain leech brother of ours."

"He's back at Dad's."

"Yeah, what a loser," Rhodes snorted, leaning back in her chair and picking up her sandwich. "He totally got his ass fired from that last gig. Went over to Dad's the other day to try and get them to kick him out. Didn't work, obvi."

Rhodes took a bite if her gross looking vegan sandwich, licking vegan mayonnaise or whatever dressing vegans used, off her thumb because again, no manners. "Dad said something though. About you. And some girl."

Percy's face grew hot.

"Dad doesn't know what he's talking about," Percy muttered, picking up his sandwich (which was hard to do since it didn't have two slices of bread what the heck was this?). He took a bite to stave off any more questions.

It didn't work.

"Uh-huh, whatever you say, little brother. Your words may say not but your lobster-red face says yes."

Percy scowled, feeling his face flush even darker. Dammit. Rhodes laughed at him, grinning with her mouth full of food as she took another long drink from her coffee.

"Chew with your mouth closed, it's disgusting," Percy said, flicking a kettle chip at her instead of responding.

"Fine. Keep your secrets, little brother. But," Rhodes took another bite of her nearly finished sandwich. "tell your new _friend_ if she breaks your heart, I'll break her face."

"Rhodes—"

"I'm just sayin'. If Rachel hadn't conveniently left the country—"

"–Rhodes, we've talked about this, it wasn't just Rachel—"

"–I legit could not care less. Eat your sandwich."

The sandwich was actually super delicious, and Percy decided once he got paid next he would definitely be bringing Grover around to try the café. Rhodes saw him off with a gross kiss on the head right on the front step of the firm's exit, because she was terrible like that, and shouted after him to: "visit me more you ungrateful hermit!"

Percy kept his head low, trying to scrub off the lipstick he _knew_ she'd left behind (she purposefully wore the kind that would leave a mark because she was the worst). He hugged his camera bag close, rubbing furiously at his forehead as he wove through the crowded street. He was so preoccupied that he almost missed it when an unfamiliar voice called out his name: "Percy! Percy!"

"Eh?"

Percy froze, head snapping up. Of course, stopping dead in the middle of New York traffic, foot or otherwise, was a bad idea—the couple behind him smacked right into Percy's back, sending him stumbling forward.

They hurled 'watch it's' at each other, Percy anxiously checking his camera bag for any damage.

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you okay?"

"You're way too polite to be out on the street," Percy said as the owner of the mysterious voice ran up to him.

"Oh dear, that was terribly rude," Helena Chase fretted, holding onto her husband's arm with both hands as they hurried closer to him, her eyes roaming over his form with concern.

"That's New York," Percy chuckled. "And I'm fine really. No harm done. You guys going to see Annabeth?"

"Yes, are you heading back to the apartment?"

"Yeah, I need to drop some stuff off," Percy said, gesturing towards his camera bag. "But ah, I don't think Annabeth's home from work yet."

"Oh." Helena and Fredrick exchanged a look.

"But ah, I mean, feel free to tag along, maybe she'll get out early to spend more time with you," Percy added lamely, hunching his shoulders and tugging at the zipper of his camera bag.

"No, she won't," Fredrick said ruefully. "But thank you. She gave us a key so I guess we'll just let ourselves in."

"She has like a million different teas you can try," Percy suggested as a pink-haired college brat shoved their way between Percy and his fake girlfriend's parents. "But ah, here, let's get moving before someone shoves us into the street for holding up traffic, c'mon, it's shorter this way."

"Thank you so much for being so helpful," Helena sighed fifteen minutes later when they were climbing up the stairs of the apartment building. "I suppose you were busy at work huh?"

"Ah, yeah, I just, ah, finished a shoot this morning." Percy tapped his bag with what he hoped wasn't a totally guilty I-was-photographing-my-sister-because-I-can't-get-a-real-job kind of look.

"Oh really? Of what?"

"Um, a lawyer," Percy muttered, feeling his neck grow warm. "Who's ah, about to win a big case. Shoot for a magazine you know."

"Oh, how exciting, do you know what the case is about?"

"Um, yeah, it's an environmental thing—the firm is litigating against commercial fishing. The defendant totally is contracting foreign workers to get around American fishing laws and they're causing like a ton of damage and putting endangered species at even great risk—sunfish!" Percy exclaimed, his voice filling the hallway as he shuffled his bag around, feeling for his apartment key. "They were caught with a boat full of sunfish fins! Just the fins, these monsters were—"

Percy paused outside his apartment door, key finally in hand as he blinked at Annabeth's parents, who were staring at him with an expression he couldn't quite read, but was weirdly soft around the edges and looked to be a cousin of the dreaded pity. "Ah, sorry. I get a bit . . . carried away sometimes. I know it's not very interesting to other people."

"No, no, no," Helena assured him, reaching out to pat him on the arm with a smile so kind it almost hurt to look at. "It's wonderful to see someone so animated and passionate, it's . . . . It's just really nice to see."

"I see why she likes you," Fredrick added in and, oh no, his eyes were all soft around the corners too when he looked at Percy. "I'm glad she's found someone like you."

Percy gaped at them longer than what was socially acceptable. "Okay!" he said, voice still too loud as his heart pounded guilty in his ears.

He cleared his throat and force his heart to calm down, it wasn't that big of a deal, honestly. "Well, um, I don't. I don't know when you guys expect Annabeth but you can come over until she gets back."

Fredrick grinned and clapped Percy on the shoulder. "We'd like that son."

A weird noise escaped Percy's throat, half-hysterical, as he nodded that sure, yeah, it was totally fine and cool and all good to let these nice people into his apartment and continue to lie to them. Sure. It was fine. It was all good.

Percy led the way into the apartment and tried to pretend he couldn't physically feel the Chases' presence, impeding on his sacred, lonely, depressing, too-small apartment as he tried to discreetly hide the dirty dishes from view, oh were those dirty socks on the floor (kick those under the couch). With great care, he set his camera bag on the coffee table and turned to face the Chases.

"I just need to download these images to clean up space on the memory card is that okay?" Percy asked, forking his thumb over his shoulder at his beat-up old laptop.

"Oh yes, dear, not a problem at all," Helena told him warmly, moving throughout his apartment with a familiarity that made Percy's stomach grow tighter. "I know Annabeth has lots of tea I could pop over and grab—oh, are you a tea drinker as well?"

Helena had found the box of tea Rhodes bought him from her trip to Iceland (something about whaling and justice) a year ago. The tea was really for Grover but it somehow never made its way over to his apartment, collecting dust on Percy's shelf instead until its intended recipient came to call and brewed its weird leafy contents.

"It ah, actually belongs to a friend of mine," Percy said, booting up his laptop. "I can't remember what kind of tea it is, it's from Iceland, I think. He drinks it when he's here. You can totally have some though, I think there's one of those things you use to make it in the drawer next to you."

"The diffuser yes," Helena said, sounding oddly charmed by his ignorance. Which was weird.

"I'll take a cup too, dear, if that's alright," Fredrick told his wife as he settled down on Percy's couch.

"Yeah, of course, knock yourself out."

 _I should have said that the tea was for Annabeth,_ Percy belatedly realized as Helena hummed and bustled around the kitchen, finding mugs and Grover's kettle (he swore sometimes his friends basically lived in his apartment with all their stuff that cluttered his cupboards). He snuck at a peek at Fredrick, who had leaned back in the couch, arm stretched out over the back, studying the blue finned tuna hung to his left. Percy not-so-casually looked over at Helena, humming to herself as she peeked into his fridge (oops, no milk). Neither seemed to find the tea comment weird. Maybe Annabeth didn't like foreign tea? God, Percy really knew so little about her.

 _Focus,_ he scolded himself, shaking his head and turning his attention back to the computer. He carefully extracted his SD card from the camera and plugged it into the computer.

"Do you want any tea, Percy?" Helena asked.

"Um, yeah sure." Percy had choked tea down before for the sake of his tree-loving friend, he could do it for Annabeth's parents.

"So, is this your usual process?" Fredrick asked. "You meet the client, do a shot, then come home and upload the pictures?"

"Um, yeah, more or less." Percy shrugged. "Sometimes there is more set-up, finding good places to shoot, coordinating the background or the props or whatever they want. The hard part comes after though, when I have to sort through everything and start editing. People are way more complicated than fish. Lot pickier too."

Fredrick laughed, a sound not as deep as Poseidon or Triton but warm nonetheless. "Yeah, I bet. Do you mind if I take a look?"

"Sure, here, these are from today, I obviously haven't edited any of them yet." Percy swiveled his camera around so Fredrick could see Rhodes's pictures.

"Oh wow, these look great! Helena, come look at this," Fredrick called, leaning forward with interest.

"They're unedited and some angles are weird," Percy muttered, feeling his neck grow hot.

"I mean you would know, but to me, they look great, already like something I'd see in a magazine, you'll have to send us a copy when it gets published. Helena, look!"

Helena had migrated over, peeking over her husband's shoulder at Rhodes's predatory smile and sharp lipstick. "Oh, look at her," she laughed, her hands settling on Fredrick's shoulders. "What a fierce-looking woman. You can definitely tell she's a lawyer."

"Yeah," Percy agreed and his lips twitched up despite himself. "She's interesting for sure."

"Is this what you'll be editing then?"

"No, actually I have a shoot from last week that I'm wrapping up. Ah, graduation pictures."

"Oh yes, it is that season isn't it." A wistful look fell over Fredrick's face. "Annabeth didn't want senior pictures. We took a few snaps with our camera but not . . . not anything official."

Percy stared at the back of his computer, at the half-faded sticker he picked up during the semester and a half he semi-frequented the photography club at the local university. It used to be a camera flashing brightly in front of the Empire State Building, but now a scratch slashed through the center of the camera, the light dull and ominous. Percy felt like the sad, faded sticker perfectly summed how he felt in the current situation.

The sharp whistle of the kettle shattered the moment.

"Oh, that's the tea," Helena said, bustling away to finish her task.

"It's nice work, son," Fredrick said, pushing the laptop back towards its emotionally constipated owner, who took it without comment, his throat tight.

Helena brought them tea and the three settled into relative comfort. Helena and Fredrick chatted over their tea, peering at Percy's work every once in a while, to comment or involve him in the conversation. It made working through Drew's photographs bearable, almost enjoyable, and the tea didn't taste nearly as bitter as he remembered.

"Does she—?" Fredrick asked, his voice trailing off as he looked at the last edit in Drew's portfolio. "Why did she pose like that?"

"I have no idea," Percy groaned, sinking deep into his chair, legs stretched out before him. "I told her not to but mother knows best and I got shot down."

"It makes her—" Fredrick paused, chewing on his lips.

"She has a small chest and that just makes it worse," Helena voiced for her husband.

Percy couldn't help but snicker at that, burying his face in his hands.

"I was trying to be tactful," Fredrick said.

"It's nothing bad, just standing like that makes it more pronounced and I don't think that's what she was going for."

"Probably not," her husband agreed, his mouth twitching, which he tried to hide behind his teacup.

"I'm going to be in so much trouble when she sees these," Percy all but whined into his hands, bemoaning his bad luck in clients, in stupidity, in life at large.

"There, there," Helena said sympathetically, reaching out to gently pat Percy on the back. "I'm sure she knows her chest is slightly below average, it's nothing to worry about."

Percy wasn't so sure about that.

Next to them, Fredrick's phone pinged. Percy didn't lift his head but winced when the man gave such a heavy sigh that Percy could physically feel the man exhale, the tea-warmed air tingled with exotic spices. "Annabeth said she's going to be late."

"Oh." Helena's hand fell from Percy's shoulder.

Percy peeked up from behind his hands. Fredrick stared into his tea like it held all the answers of the world, the dying sunlight casting shadows across the professor's face that made him look older, more tired.

"You guys are welcomed to stay here," Percy put forth, aware that it didn't really make up for the disappointment.

"Thank you, Percy."

Fredrick didn't look up. He ran his thumb over the screen of his phone, his free hand buried in his hair. Percy watched, face still half-covered by his hands.

"You know what, let's order take-out," Fredrick said, sitting up straight and setting his tea down on the ancient coffee table. "What do you like Percy? What's good around here?"

Percy, who only ordered take-out when he got paid or the ramen noodles ran out and some poor soul took pity on him (usually his mom), stalled. "Um… Lots? What are you in the mood for?"

"Something we don't get back home."

"Thai?" There was a relatively cheap Thai place not that far from the apartment that would deliver.

"Yeah, that sounds amazing."

Fredrick pulled the menu up on his phone and Percy let the pair order too much food for three people as he packed his photography equipment away. It was strange, the apartment warm from the kettle and two extra bodies, foreign spices settling into the fabric of the couch as three steaming mugs scented the air, the low murmur of the Chases as Percy stood in his bedroom.

It was . . . nice. Weirdly, warmly, nice.

 _Don't get used to it,_ Percy told himself sternly as he gently put his camera back in its safe place. _It's not real._

A young pimple-y college student dropped off enough food to feed a small army and Fredrick gave a tip large enough to make the delivery boy thank them no less than five times. They spread the buffet carefully across Percy's meager countertop, cartons half on top of each other and in absolutely no order whatsoever. Percy's plates were plastic and worn, but the Chases didn't seem to mind. They retreated to their seats around the coffee table and Fredrick regaled them with tales of freshmen mishaps as their dug into their feast.

Percy leaned back in his sunken, time-worn chair, pleasantly full and warm, as he watched the Chases laughed and share stories as they finished their dinner. Helena sat with one leg folded beneath her, leaning into her husband as she twirled noodles around her chopsticks. Fredrick's eyes wrinkled as he laughed, taking a sip from his third cup of tea.

"Want any more?" Percy asked as he stood up, plate in hand.

"We're fine, dear, we'll get up if we want more," Helena said with a wave of her chopstick and Percy nodded, moving into the kitchen.

He was half-way through refilling his plate when there was a pounding at the door.

"Comin', comin'," Percy said, shoving in a quick bite before stepping over to the door.

"'Lo?" Percy asked, wondering for a weird, wild moment if they'd short-changed the delivery boy or something and froze dead in his tracks when he saw the blonde at the other side of the door.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" Annabeth hissed.

Percy blinked at her, his brain struggling to catch up. Annabeth looked beautiful as always, but it was apparent the long day had taken its toll on his neighbor. Her hair was frizzled, wild blonde strands in a series of disarray as they escaped their elastic confines. Her clothes were wrinkled and he could see papers hastily stowed in the bag at her side.

"Annabeth—?" Fredrick called from behind them.

Annabeth's eyes flickered over Percy's shoulder. Quick as lightning, her arm snapped out and she roughly grabbed Percy by the arm, bodily dragged him out of the apartment and slammed the door shut behind them.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" Annabeth repeated, poking him hard in the chest this time.

"Ow," Percy said reflexively, not sure if he was referring to the jab or the death grip she had on his arm. "Lighten up will ya, we saved some food for you."

"You saved some—? You're eating dinner?" Annabeth's face morphed through a series of emotions quickly than Percy could decipher before landing back on furious.

"We saved you some?" Percy repeated uncertainly, wracking his brain to discover the source of her ire and coming up blank. What did he do this time? Was it something he said? Was it his breath? (His breath was probably terrible.)

"You, you—" Annabeth released him with a frustrated cry. She turned away from him, running a hand through her already mused and disorderly hair. "I can't believe _you._ "

"I'm sorry?" Percy tried because it felt safe. "I don't understand what's going on here."

Annabeth whirled back around, jabbing him in the chest again. "You invited my dad and Helena into your _apartment."_

"They were lost and I thought—"

"You can't _do that,_ " Annabeth hissed, getting up in his face, her eyes flashing.

"I can't do _what?"_ Percy exclaimed, growing annoyed now.

"Invade my life like that!" Annabeth whisper-hissed. "I appreciate your help I do, but that's my dad, this is my life. You can't just barge in like you're my real boyfriend. What am I going to do if he starts asking more questions about you? Spending time with you? If he gets _attached_ to you? This isn't real, Jackson. You're a convenient excuse to get him off my back, not some weird parent-entertaining sidekick to make me look like a bad daughter!"

"I—" Percy stammered. "I wasn't trying to make you look bad."

"Oh?" Annabeth demanded scathingly. "Taking off a workday in the middle of the week to entertain him, letting him buy you dinner, telling stories, playing the good boyfriend because oh Annabeth works too much? You didn't see how that makes me look bad? Like it's somehow _my_ fault they show up without asking and expect me to drop everything, everything I've worked so hard for, because they're bored and think they deserve my every attention?"

"I—"

"Back. Off." Annabeth snarled and her eyes flickered across his face for a moment . . .

"What the hell is that?"

Annabeth reached up and Percy started to pull away as her fingers brushed against his forehead.

"Is that . . . lipstick?"

"Eh?" Percy asked, "Oh yeah, I—"

"Great, just . . . just great," Annabeth said, her hand falling to her side with a sound that was deafening in its silence. "You know what Percy, I don't want to hear it. Send my dad and Helena out. I don't care what you tell them, I don't care if you hurt their feelings. I want them in my apartment in five minutes or I swear . . ."

Annabeth trailed off.

"They just better be there," she whispered.

"Annabeth, I—"

But Annabeth wasn't listening. She had turned on her heels before he even muttered the first syllable of her name. Her head was hung low, her gait listless as she walked away, and seeing her go somehow felt even worse than all the shouting.

* * *

 **A/n Long time no see I know. Life has not been great. I know this chapter didn't have a lot of Annabeth or development of any kind, but I hope you enjoyed it nevertheless. Annabeth has a lot of inferiority issues from her childhood that are rearing their ugly heads. I hope the next chapter will be out quicker but I can't promise anything. I hope life is treating you kinder than I.** **Please drop a note and let me know what you thought.** **As always, I hope you enjoyed ~ ***

 **(If you like Ducks or Disney or take pity on me, please go read my new story about Disney ducks.)**


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